Kaeru
by Kuroi Uma
Summary: Who is a soldier out of war? Who is a gundam pilot without a gundam? Heero thought he knew, but in the aftermath of the Mariemaia inccident, with Wing Zero in shambles, he's no longer sure. So he sets out in search of his origins and while the road leads him back to Japan, he meets people who will make him rethink his life and help him find his place in the world.
1. Tomodachi

'Everyday is a journey and the journey itself is home.'

Matsuo Basho

 **Kaeru**

(to return; to go back)

 _ **Chapter I**_

 _ **Tomodachi**_ _ **(Friend)**_

I knew I was in a hospital the moment I regained consciousness. I'd been trained to keep my vitals under check while I assessed the environment, but I had woken up in hospitals enough times to recognise the unsettling smell of antiseptics and the nerve-wrecking beep of heart monitors within a span of seconds. There was something else this time, however, something I wasn't entirely used to waking up to. Perfume. And I knew exactly just whose perfume it was, which led me to the pressing question of whether I was ready to talk to her or not.

Relena had been there when I passed out, she had witnessed the things I'd done, she had heard the words I'd spoken to Mariemaia Kushrenada and, knowing her, she had probably been the one to catch me and bring me to the hospital. She sat there now, waiting for me to wake up, to reassure her that I was alright. Was I supposed to thank her? Did I want to? And what for? And if I didn't thank her, what would she expect me to say then?

Certain that she wouldn't leave before I woke up and knowing there was no use postponing the inevitable, I opened my eyes.

At first, she gave a sharp intake of breath, her body moving out of the chair and towards me almost unconsciously, but as I watched her out of the corner of my eye she seemed to catch herself, reining in whatever impulse she'd had and regaining her seat with a small reassuring smile.

'It's good to see you.' She said, surprisingly, as if we'd just run into each other. 'How are you feeling?'

 _Sore._ I thought. _And stiff._ Because that was how my body felt. And then I remembered _why_. I remembered Zero and how very little was left of it at the end. It amounted to nothing. There was nothing left of it. It was over.

 _Lost_. I thought. _I feel lost and numb._

'Fine.' I said.

Relena let out a deep sigh, as if relieved, and her tired eyes ran over the room. It was as empty and sterile as any other hospital room, yet her gaze alighted on the wall anyway, glancing at something I couldn't see. 'What have you been doing? This past year.'

'A little of everything.'

'Will you go back to that now?'

So that's what it all came down to. I guess it was unavoidable. What was I going to do now? Who was Heero Yui without a gundam?

I had been willing to send Zero to the sun to be destroyed. I thought I'd had it all figured out, but now – after piloting it one last time – I couldn't shake the feeling that I was nowhere close to knowing who I was nor what I wanted. All I knew was that I had been about to commit a serious mistake before this incident, because, as hard as I tried, I could no longer imagine myself working those petty jobs for the rest of my life. But if not that then what?

'No. I won't go back to that.'

She nodded, having somehow anticipated my answer. Then her cheeks coloured lightly, and I saw her lip tremble even though she still wouldn't meet my gaze. 'If you need a place to stay, you can always stay with me.'

Her offer did not surprise me in the least, but her sudden reluctance towards me did. We had only been apart for a year, but still she had changed and – I was beginning to realise – so had I. One thing, nonetheless, remained the same. I could not imagine myself answering to anyone just yet, could not picture myself compromising and _that_ was what moving in with Relena would mean. It would mean time spent together; it would mean whenever I left, wherever I went, she would be worried; it would mean sharing with her the nothingness that was myself, and I couldn't even fathom doing it. Not now. Not yet.

'Hn.'

My meagre acknowledgement of her offer brought a rueful – though knowing – smile to her lips. She finally turned back to me, back to the confident Relena of old. 'Will you be leaving then?'

'Yes.'

'Where to?'

Indeed. Where to? I didn't know, but I felt like in order to find out who I was I'd have to trace back my steps. I needed to go back to where it'd all started, and I had a couple ideas of where that might be. For some reason, though I wasn't ready to be kept tabs on, I decided I wanted her to know.

'L1.'

She did not look surprised.

* * *

As soon as Relena was gone, I discharged myself from the hospital and left before I needed to answer those very same questions to numerous other visitors. I left before doctors could tell me that, despite all evidence pointing to the contrary, I was not yet fit to leave. How could I possibly be fit to leave after what I had been through? They couldn't comprehend the amount of damage my body had been honed to withhold. No matter how good they were at their jobs, physicians just had a hard time wrapping their minds around it, around the fact that I was probably as close to indestructible as a human being had the right to be.

I wandered the streets in search of a cash point. And – once I finally found one – I withdrew all the money I had left. One person already knew where I was going and I thought that was enough. I didn't want anyone tracing my steps by any means. I already felt lost, but now I wanted to truly and completely lose myself in the world. I wanted to disappear because disappearing had always helped me clear my head, and that was as much as I knew about who I was.

The next flight to L1 would be leaving in eight hours. I purchased a ticket and resumed wandering. Out of the space port and into the streets. Brussels was a city much like any other and not even Mariemaia and the threat of yet another war had managed to dampen the overall holiday cheer. Buildings sparkled with colour even in the bright light of day and families strolled by, hand in hand, basking in the renewed sense of peace and security that had dawned with the new day.

Relena would be giving a speech. One of many. Where she'd most likely clarify what had happened the night before; convince the whole of the ESUN _and_ the colonies to forgive Mariemaia and give her a second chance; and reinforce in the minds and hearts of all those watching her those ideals of disarmament and peace she had always believed in, always fought so hard to uphold.

For some reason, probably out of habit, I found myself making my way to her, stepping into the auditorium just as the sun set. I did not wish to talk to her. There was nothing left for us to say at that point, but I felt like watching over her. Perhaps because the sense of security had yet to contaminate me, and her feeble security detail did not inspire any trust in me; or perhaps I knew that'd be the last time in a long time that I'd see Relena Darlian in person even if it was only from afar.

* * *

It was during the long flight to L1 that I met the old man who first gave me the idea of writing this memoir.

I was lucky enough to be given a window seat and even luckier to be the first in my line of seats to arrive. I wanted as little human contact as possible on my way from ESUN back to the place where it had all begun or, at least, where Operation Meteor had begun for me. I had a lot on my mind… Data on my past that I meant to sort out and analyse, things I remembered and things I'd forgotten and then there was the future, the uncertainty of it all, which – despite the fact that I kept trying to push it out of my mind – kept coming back to rule my thoughts.

For the moment, I knew where to go and I had something I meant to do, but what if it led nowhere? What would I do then? Where would I go?

Those were the questions that were running through my head when the old man arrived and quietly took the seat beside mine. I paid him no mind at first, made no move, said nothing that might encourage him to talk to me at all and – during the first half of the flight – he seemed perfectly content just sitting there in neither uncomfortable nor companionable silence. Why and when that changed I cannot tell.

'L1 surely is a long way.' I peeked discreetly at him out of the corner of my eye, hoping against hope that he was talking to someone else. There _was_ no one else however. And – to my utter annoyance – my apparent disinterest didn't seem to discourage him, but to urge him on instead. 'It's my first time visiting the colonies… My daughter moved out here a couple years ago to live with her husband, but even though she's been insisting ever since for me to visit I've always found a reasonable excuse not to. Except this time there was none.' He chuckled to himself then threw his trump card. He asked me a question. 'Have you ever been out here?'

As much as I craved my space, I did not wish to be rude. That might attract attention to myself and attention was most definitely something I could do without. 'Yes.'

'Really? Oh, well, you do strike me as a colony kid. Are you coming home? Or leaving?'

I had no idea. 'I was born in L1.'

'Ah… Coming then.' He paused, and I turned back to the window trying to put an end to our conversation. 'Aren't you a little young to be traveling alone?'

In times of war no one cared if you were old enough to wander about unsupervised, but I had plenty of fake IDs for times of peace as well. 'No, I'm not.'

'I'm sorry. I know it's none of my business. I just sympathised with you for some reason, so I worried. As we grow old we sometimes tend to worry about other people's business more than about our own.' He was smiling, and I no longer had any hope his pauses would be permanent or even long-lasting. He reminded me of Duo Maxwell, babbling non-stop, minding other people's businesses. 'Do your parents still live in L1?'

'No.'

'Hmm… You're living on your own then. Traveling around the universe?'

His tireless cheerfulness was starting to wear me down like nothing ever had. Or maybe it was all those questions and the realisation that I had only pitiful answers for each and every single one of them. 'Yes.' I supposed.

'That's good.' He nodded to himself as if coming to some sort of realisation. 'That's really good. I always wanted to travel when I was about your age. I was brave then, you see, and I wanted to go on an adventure, to conquer the world.'

I thought a sane person would've laughed at such an unrealistic, childish ambition, but he looked quite serious. Dreamy even. As if he wanted to go back to those days, as if he still wished to go on an adventure or to conquer the world. For a fraction of a second I considered telling him he already was on an adventure because what else was leaving one's home behind, one's very planet, if not an adventure? But that sounded foolish even in my own head and I had never been foolish.

'Are you keeping a log?'

'What?' I fully turned to him then, for the first time since we'd started talking, and frowned in confusion.

'A journal. You should keep a written record of your travels. It's what every real adventurer does.'

I was so perplexed my tongue slipped. 'Why?'

'Why? So you may relieve it all when you're my age. Retrace your steps, recall every feeling, every sensation… So you can tell your children and grandchildren all the amazing things you've done and the unimaginable things you've seen.' His smile widened further than ever then. 'I'll be a grandfather soon. That's what gave me the courage to get on this spaceship. I want to be there for my daughter and I want to tell my grandchild about all the things I've done and seen… Even if I never left the ESUN. What else is there to live for but to share your life with your loved ones?'

Seeing the joy on that old man's face, I did indeed wonder.

* * *

I hadn't expected L1 to have been left untouched by the war, I very well knew it hadn't, but it was only when I stepped out of the spaceport that I realised the hangar where Wing had been built, the base where I'd been genetically modified and trained to perfection, might no longer be there and the information I'd been aiming to find would then be lost forever. If Dr. J had left anything behind to begin with. My unusual thoughtlessness only cemented the fact that the war was over, as I was forced to make my way to the old industrial district either way. I had come too far to turn back without making sure. Besides, turning back wasn't really an option as I had no other place to go.

Luck seemed to accompany me, however, as I soon found that – though most of the district had been destroyed by battles long past – the reconstruction had yet to reach that small forgotten corner of the colony and that, despite some structural damage, the hangar remained just where it had always been.

The gates remained in place, but I snuck easily past the twisted and torn wire fence. An entire side of the structure seemed to have been hit by a blast and the walls, especially on the second floor, had caved in. Even from outside I could glimpse the dark soot stains that marred a portion of the inner walls. It was about all I could do to hope that the data I was looking for – whatever it was – hadn't been damaged.

Where the heavy sliding doors had once stood, shielding the inside of the hangar from passers-by, now I found open archways leading into a dark empty building, a house to nothing but dust and debris…and a man. He sat underneath the scaffold, almost in the middle of the room, by a dying bonfire. His seat was a pile of scrap and the clothes he wore were stained and tattered, but I could see he was still young, maybe in his early or mid-twenties and despite the slack posture and the tired haggard looks, clearly a former soldier.

I debated with myself on whether to ignore him or recruit him, after all he might have already found what I was looking for. He might even have already burned it. A possibility I was unwilling to consider at that moment. Still sore from my wounds and tired from recent events, I approached him.

'I take it you're in need of money.' I went straight to the point. His dark eyes held mine, suspicious but curious. 'I'm looking for something… It may either be a floppy disk or a handwritten log. I'll pay you if you help me find it.'

His hesitation lasted but a second. 'And what's this log supposed to look like?'

'I do not know.'

'One of the rooms here has hundreds of these thin grey notebooks. It might be one of them.'

'It probably will be.' I was just slightly surprised by his knowledge of the place and the secrets it hid at plain sight. I could picture those notebooks so perfectly in my mind, I knew I had seen them before and I was certain the information I was looking for had to be there somewhere.

'How will I know I've got the right one?'

That gave me pause. It was a reasonable question, but could I really trust him with that information? How much did he know? What would he infer from it? And what could he possibly do with the knowledge? He seemed to read my thoughts, but – even though he clearly needed the money – did not push me, did not offer empty reassurances as to his character. I thought _that_ was most assuring of all.

'Look for the words "perfect soldier" and "operation meteor".'

No recognition or shock or anything crossed his face. A simple nod and he pushed himself to his feet. It was when I realised he had a limp, a memento of war surely and a confirmation that he'd been at the front.

I followed him past dust covered scrap piles, knocked over tray carts and fallen tools, up the well-known spiralling stairs and towards the damaged side of the building. The tiny office we were headed to, which was really more of an archive, was located at the corner farthest from the street where the mobile suit battle, which had caused the second floor's destruction, had taken place. That was the most likely reason why it had been spared by the blast. The lock had been shot, and my companion pushed the door open without effort. It groaned on its hinges.

'It was locked when I first got here.' He answered my unasked question. 'I had to make sure no one was hiding in here. Nothing else's been damaged.'

He stepped aside to let me in first. It was awfully dark inside, but I could see the tall packed metal shelves that covered every wall on every side of the room. 'Does the light still work?'

'No, and the torch's run out of battery.'

'Perhaps we could knock down a wall.'

'Or we could carry these logs downstairs.' He had made his way past me to run his fingers over the dusty inscription on the edge of the nearest shelf. 'They're classified by date. Any idea what year we're looking for?'

It was the year Dr J had found me. It couldn't have been more than a decade even though it felt like a lifetime. 'Somewhere between AC 187 and 189.'

He simply nodded in the quiet efficient way I was beginning to be quite grateful for and set out to find the right section. I too began searching my side of the room, leaning close to the shelves and narrowing my eyes against the darkness. The years which I had spent training in that place seemed to all blend together and the years before that were but a blur in my head… Then there'd been the war, that ordinary year of respite, the recent Mariemaia incident and, now, here I was. Back where it'd all started.

'87 to 89' the stranger said behind me. 'There's quite a collection.'

I crossed the room in three steps and pulled one of the books off the shelf. The hand was unrecognisable and the first few entries pretty much irrelevant, but I was sure we would find it, the right log – Dr J's hand, I hoped – _and_ the data. 'Let's start with these. They can stoke the fire once we're done with them.'

A nod from my companion and we set out to empty the shelves.

* * *

It was nearly morning when he handed me the log he'd been reading for the past five minutes. 'Here. I believe this is it.'

I took the notebook from him – open as it was – not caring to check the year or month. I'd come upon Dr J's hand a few times before as I scanned the previous logbooks so it was no surprise to see it now. I took it as a good sign.

The entry was irrelevant in itself. He mentioned the progress they had made in building the gundam and explained in detail the structural changes he'd decided to make. It was only as a post script that he commented on the 'still unfruitful' search for the 'perfect soldier' and how he was beginning to feel the need to get involved in it.

It wasn't much, but it _was_ a confirmation that I was on the right track. My assistant seemed to be waiting for a word. 'It's a start.'

'But we're not quite there yet.'

'No.'

He nodded and picked up the next log on the pile, but then seemed to hesitate. 'Should I leave you to it? Perhaps you don't wish me to know the information you're looking for?'

Thoughtful, to say the least. 'Go on.' I wondered if he was laying the groundwork to ask for more money. Not that we'd agreed on a sum yet, but still… When he said nothing, however, we resumed our search. I realised I didn't care what he read, it made no difference, but what really surprised me was the fact that I trusted him not to read further than the keywords we were focusing on. He didn't strike me as the kind who would willingly stick his nose where it didn't belong.

It didn't take long for him to find the one entry I'd been looking for, the entry that marked the beginning of a new era for me. 'Here. They've found him.' Was all the stranger said before handing me yet another log. I had still been searching the previous one for the entry he had just located. My first meeting with Dr J.

 _Progress has been made regarding the perfect soldier. The ideal subject has been secured. The boy cannot be older than ten. He was found wandering the streets aimlessly. There is a coldness and an emptiness about him that is impossible to overlook. He appears to be of Japanese descent and – surprisingly – to have already received some sort of training. His intelligence and perceptiveness are clearly above average, a fact that was noticeable within no more than a few minutes of conversation. He has joined our cause willingly and seems eager to pilot the new model. There's no doubt he'll be ready when the time comes. His training will begin post haste._

Japanese descent… Over half the people in L1 were of Asian descent and most of those were Japanese. Besides, I already knew that piece of information. I needed something more specific. I needed information that would shed some light on my true origins, that would help me trace my steps back and beyond this point. I had lived for less than twenty years, it shouldn't be too hard.

'We will continue.' I nodded at my companion who had lost himself watching the lightening horizon through the open archways for a moment. 'Unless you need sleep. I can take over from here. It won't affect your payment. You've earned it.'

He shook his head. 'I wish to continue, if that's alright with you. I don't really sleep. Not anymore.'

I didn't ask. It didn't sound like he wished to elaborate anyway. 'Hn.'

We all had our fair share of war related nightmares.

The next relevant entry was dated one week later. I found it in the same log I already held and – as I read it – I realised it would be enough. The lead I'd been looking for was finally within my reach.

 _The subject has been making extraordinary progress and it is still inconceivable what he will be capable of once genetic improvements have been made. It is very likely his previous training was given to him by Oz. They have been working in L1, particularly in X-18999, for some time now and the body of one of their spies was recently found not very far from where our subject was located. Remains to be seen whether he retains any kind of allegiance to his former organization._

I snapped the book closed and threw it into the fire. My nameless assistant slowly closed his as well, studying me for a long moment before he put it down. 'I take it we're done then.'

'Thank you for your help.' I felt obliged to say before handing him what I assumed to be an agreeable sum.

'Am I allowed to burn the rest of these logs?'

'I meant to do that myself.'

'I won't _charge_ you for the pleasure.'

'Hn.'

So Oz was where I'd come from. Oz and that man whose face I no longer remembered, even though I'd never forget his words. I couldn't recall his name either no matter how hard I tried. I wondered what that meant, if it meant anything at all. I had only been eight years old at the time. It didn't matter. That man was my lead now and to discover where he had come from I'd first need to remember his name. If there were any records left of Oz after the wars the Preventers were sure to have access to them, which meant making a call to Lady Une. A call I really did not wish to make.

The flames grew and sizzled as more logs were added to the fire. The stranger didn't bother to read them, to try and uncover my secrets, which I thought was quite generous of him. Or maybe he was just polite enough not to do so in front of me. There was no way he wasn't interested in the information despite its uselessness now that the war was over. He was a former soldier after all, wasn't he?

It was when I realised I might have an access to Oz's records sitting idly right in front of me. If only I was lucky enough…

'Which side did you fight for?'

My boldness didn't seem to surprise him. He picked up another log as he considered the question and dropped it into the fire. When he met my eyes it was in a silent dare. 'I was an Oz soldier. A lieutenant, actually. Then I joined Treize's Faction. Lost a leg fighting the White Fang… And that's the end of it.'

'Do you still have access to any Oz records?' I tried not to glance at the leg he had fisted his hand on. It was irrelevant.

This time his suspicion deepened and he frowned at me as he asked: 'Why?'

'I don't mean to start another war.'

'I couldn't care less if you did. I just wish to know why.'

 _Fair enough,_ I thought. After all, I was asking for something big. 'I need to gather information on one of their former spies.'

'Who?'

'I don't know his name. He died in 188.'

'Hmm…' he met my eye thoughtfully. I suspected he must be wondering about my reasons to be inquiring after a man who had died nearly a decade earlier, when I was but a child. But even if he was curious – from what I'd seen of him so far – he wasn't one to pry. 'Very well… But we'll need to travel and I've got no means but what you've just given me. The local Oz base's been bulldozed a few weeks ago. I'd been hiding there when the machines arrived.'

'Where would we have to go?'

'Earth would be our best option. Plenty of old Oz hideouts there, but if money's an issue then—'

'No. I think I have enough to get us both to Earth.'

'Good.' He glanced outside for a second at the already light blue 'skies'. 'I take it you're not in too much of a hurry?'

 _Since your man is dead_ , I filled in for him. 'No. I still mean to burn the rest of these logs, including the ones upstairs.'

'There's some MS fuel left. We could set the whole archive on fire. And then I'd like to buy a new outfit and grab a bite to eat before we go.'

'Hn.' I agreed, feeling my own long empty stomach come back to life.

'There's a diner nearby. Cheap and inconspicuous. In case you're worried about being seen.'

 _Not really,_ I mused.

We made quick work of the remaining books, pausing only for a moment to admire the roaring fire before we set out to burn the ones we had left on the upper floor. I realised then what I was really doing. There was no real need to destroy those records, they no longer meant anything to anyone. Hence why Dr J had left them behind… But they did mean something to me. By destroying them I was erasing my past, a past I honestly didn't care for. It might be a chance to start over.

'I'm Wischard by the way.'

I glanced at Wischard over the fire and wondered what to do, but even though there were parts of my past I wanted gone there were others… No one said I couldn't be selective and I had been using that name for so long I didn't even remember having another before it. 'Heero Yui.'

Recognition flashed in his eyes, as it did for everyone I introduced myself to, but he said nothing as he shook the hand I – for once – offered.

* * *

'That's the place.' Wischard said as we halted in front of the tallest fanciest gates in the entire neighbourhood.

I trust my hands into my pockets as I tried to see past the underbrush, but the darkness of the night did little to help. From what I could see of the property, it was a big two-storey mansion, the lights were off and the windows were grey with dust. 'Looks abandoned.'

'It should be.'

'Are you quite sure the base here hasn't been dismantled? I don't see why they'd keep the house standing otherwise.'

'The house belonged to one of our generals. He fell in battle and – from what I've heard – his wife hasn't yet found the heart to return to the place. I'm sure she would've listed it otherwise. The house is just a ruse anyway, the base is hidden underground. I doubt the current owner's even aware of its existence.'

'Mustn't be a large base then.'

'No. It's actually more of a secret meeting room.' He finished examining the gate and turned back to me with a frown. 'I cannot make it over, but you can and you just might be able to open it from the other side.'

'Didn't expect security to be so lack.' I raised an eyebrow at him.

'They let it go after the war ended.'

'Hn.'

I looked at the gate, trying to come up with the best way to climb it. It was tricky, but not impossible and I was sure I could move fast enough not to be noticed. It was already past midnight and the streets were deserted. The cold blustery night clearly favoured us. Wischard said nothing as I finally made my move, but I saw him needlessly scan our surroundings. As soon as my feet touched the ground at the other side of the gate, he turned back to me.

'So?'

'Lock's too sturdy to pick. I could try breaking it.'

'That'd make too much noise. We don't want to attract any attention…' he paused but for a fraction of a second and yet I could see the shadow of doubt as it crossed his face. 'Maybe you should go on without me. We both know it'll be easy work for you getting into the base and extracting the data.'

Though I had refrained from telling him a single thing about myself, my actions seemed to have spoken for me, and more candidly than I would've liked, but I pushed my worries aside and focused on the mission. It was strangely reinvigorating to have one again. 'I'll check the shed. There might be a key in there.'

Surprised he had overlooked such an obvious option, Wischard nodded mutely and turned to wh an obvious option, ? atch the street as I covered the short distance from the gate to the lonely wooden shelter. It didn't feel right to leave a man behind just because of a missing leg. I wouldn't have appreciated it if someone had done it to me and so I wouldn't do it to Wischard, regardless of my personal feelings or lack thereof.

There _was_ a key in the shed, as well as a pair of garden shears and a machete I thought might come in handy, since Wischard had had to leave his gun behind. Ever since the end of the war, the spaceports had become extra cautious in regards to weapons and no armed passengers were allowed on board any spaceships. Relena would've been proud of how thorough they'd been in searching us.

'Nice save.' Wischard told me as he crossed the now-open gate. He nodded at me somewhat unsettled. 'Thank you.'

I could only shake my head and gesture for him to precede me.

We made our way up the gentle slope that led to the front door. There was no porch, only three narrow steps led to the entrance, but Wischard ignored it completely, leading me around the house instead. At the back, a pair of wooden doors led us down into an underground cellar. The doors had been left unlocked, a fact which we both found suspicious, yet neither of us chose to comment on.

Wischard searched the shelves and wine racks for what I assumed to be a switch or the hidden entrance to the bunker. Even in the dark it didn't take him long to find it. I heard the obvious click as the hidden door unlatched and the former lieutenant was suddenly walking past me again and towards one of the furthest walls.

'Here. Lend me a hand.'

The rack he wanted us to move looked stupidly heavy and yet – upon closer inspection – I realised it was all just for show. Wischard could have moved it single-handedly had he not minded making any noise. The fact that he asked for my help and, therefore, that he _did_ mind being noisy only served to reassure me of how suspicious he'd found the unlocked cellar door.

'Take one.' I extended my improvised weapons towards my companion as we prepared to step through the door. There was no need to tell him where I'd found them.

'I got this.' He pulled a corkscrew from his back pocket. With the wooden grip in his hand and the sharp iron screw gleaming between his middle and fourth fingers it looked like as good a weapon as any. 'Was all I could find. Keep yours. You've got a mission to accomplish, it won't do for you to die here.'

The hidden door led us into a bleak grey corridor. The lights turned on automatically at our entrance, and I was immediately reminded of the many underground bases and spaceships I'd visited, and sometimes lived in, during the war and even before it. I could hear the echo of our boots around us even before we'd started walking. Wischard's deep frown did not bode well and I held on to the machete on my waist.

We paused as we reached the door at the end of our short walk and listened. Wischard gave me a warning glance as his hand closed around the knob. I nodded my acknowledgement. Whoever had been here before us might have already left but it was just as likely they were still inside. There were many former soldiers hiding at the present moment. Some feeling hopelessly lost, dreaming of war and plotting against peace, others – on account of their recent association with Mariemaia Kushrenada – in fear of retribution.

We'd just never expected there'd be so many.

A dozen pistols stared right at us the moment the door swung open. Wischard dropped his weapon and raised his hands. I could only step beside him as I did the same. There was nothing that could help us identify the enemy. They were all young men, former soldiers as expected, but without their uniforms it was impossible to tell their allegiance. And yet the fact that they were there, in an Oz secret meeting room, betrayed the fact that at least _one_ of them must be a former Oz member. At least _one_ of them might know and recognise my companion.

'Who are you? And what do you want here?' the man closest to us demanded. I could tell by the sharp edge of his voice that he was more shaken by our arrival than a decent soldier ought to be.

'I'm Lieutenant Kemeny, former Oz and Treize faction member.'

'Lt. Kemeny is dead!' a man to our right said visibly distressed and all eyes in the room were suddenly on him. 'I-I _saw_ his mobile suit explode! I was _there_! He couldn't have survived!'

'It did explode.' The man beside me agreed. He was calm, but the grave expression on his face was one only a man, who knew what it felt like to be in charge and fail his subordinates, could muster. 'But the bottom half alone. I survived, though not unscathed.'

The accuser seemed to believe him once he pulled up his trouser leg to reveal the metal prosthesis underneath. The others too were consternated, but not enough to lower their weapons. 'And what is it that you want here, Lieutenant?' the first man resumed his inquiry.

'My friend and I need access to some old Oz records.' Wischard nodded at the computer set behind them.

'Old Oz records…? Whatever the hell for?'

'I'm looking for my father.' I said suddenly. The lie coming so naturally I couldn't help but wonder. 'For his burial ground rather. He was an Oz agent back before the war even started.'

'Awful sentimental story.'

'As are all war stories.' My companion backed me up seriously and the two men glared at each other for a long tense moment.

'Can't do no harm to let them have a look.' One of the youngest men said, lowering his gun. He didn't seem very interested in killing us or in pulling the trigger at all, but struck me as the kind of misguided kid who realises too late he's joined someone else's war and would've rather stayed home instead.

'We're not Oz anyway.' Another agreed.

'And Walter's recognised the man.' A third joined in and soon – however with an exasperated snort – the man-in-charge was lowering his own gun and motioning us towards the equipment at the back.

'But keep in mind we'll be watching you, _Lieutenant_.'

We stepped past them as a way was made for us. 'Perhaps it might be best if I—.'

'I know.' I cut Wischard off mid-whisper. It might be best if those men thought I was just a civilian. I wasn't sure I could rely on my companion's hacking abilities though. Thankfully, they were unnecessary, as he was able to make it into the system the easy way. Being a former Oz member, Wischard logged in with his own access code and password.

'You really _are_ Lt. Kemeny then.' The man who had recognised him earlier - Walter - was standing right behind us. 'I'm sorry I doubted you, sir.'

'Water under the bridge, soldier. I'm glad not every single one of my subordinates was killed in that battle.'

'Oh, no, sir. Quite a large number of us survived, though I fear that was only thanks to the gundams. We were awful lucky to have them on our side, sir.'

'Yes… I guess we were.'

It was strange to stand there, listening to those words and thinking of all the lives we had unknowingly saved, the memories we'd unintentionally marked and the hearts we'd inadvertently touched. Collateral damage… Relena. What would have happened had we not met at the beach that day? We'd still have met at St. Gabriel's Institute, of course, but would it have been the same? Would she still have invited me to her birthday party? Would I still have ripped the invite in an attempt to keep her away? In retrospective, it seemed like a very childish way of handling the situation. It clearly hadn't worked, having had the opposite effect instead.

'Here it is.' Wischard said beside me. 'The list of all spies and secret agents working for Oz in the AC 180's.'

'Can you sort them by…'

'Hmm… Yes. Half of them are dead.'

One of the top names attracted my immediate attention. Clark. Aoi Clark. _Why_ was it so strange and yet so dreadfully familiar? 'Click _that_ one.'

Wischard raised an eyebrow at the screen once we realised we were actually looking at a woman's profile, but he made no comment. I read the page carefully. Mrs Clark – formerly Aoi Surname Unknown – had worked for Oz until AC 180 and she had been in X-18999 during HeeroYui's assassination which made her one of the likely suspects. She had left there alive and returned to Earth, most likely to the Asia 1 area from where she originally was. They gave a full address in Japan in case they needed to locate her. Most likely to threaten her into silence, I mused. Once back 'home', or wherever it was she'd gone, she had soon proceeded to marry a man by the name of Seis Clark with whom she had later had a child. It said between parenthesis that Mr Clark was a civilian, an Oz sympathiser and – I could fill the blanks myself – clearly not a threat to the organization. Still his name seemed to work as a link to what was probably an individual profile.

'Can you print it?' I asked still amidst reading.

It took my companion a moment to work things out. 'Yes. Should I go back to the other page now or are we done?'

'Go back.' I read every single name as he scrolled down the list until we reach the letter L. And then I _knew_. Lowe. Odin Lowe. Yes, that _was_ his name. I didn't wish to know any more about him. 'We're done now.'

Wischard signed off, handed me Aoi Clark's file and stood – unsteadily for a moment – before coldly thanking the man-in-charge and promising we wouldn't disclose their location to anyone. His former subordinate and a few other men looked afflicted to see us go. Not because we were taking their secret with us, but because they ached to follow us. If he had any sympathy for them, my companion didn't show it, and we made our way out at a steady pace, never looking back until we'd reached the street. We both wondered what those men were doing there, why they saw the need to hide and from whom, but none of us ever voiced those thoughts.

After nearly an hour of walking in complete silence, Wischard only had one question: 'Weren't you looking for your "father"?'

 _Was that really what he was?_ I wondered, but it was an exercise in futility. I remembered so little from that time I'd never be able to answer that question by myself, but I knew – if I was now headed in the right direction – someone at my destination might. 'Yes… But I think I've found my mother instead.'


	2. Kazoku

*The asterisks mark the two places in this chapter where the name order was inverted (surname before given name) according to the Japanese custom.*

 _ **Chapter II**_

 _ **Kazoku (Family)**_

I reread the file countless times over dinner, but couldn't extract any more information from it than what I already knew. It was unclear whether Aoi and Odin had met earlier, but they had clearly had an affair during their stay in X-18999 at the time of Heero Yui's assassination from which _I_ was the obvious result. They split up and – having left Oz – Aoi returned to Earth and married Seis Clark giving herself a husband and her unborn child a father. She had died a few years later of undisclosed causes, and I – though it didn't feature anywhere in the file – had been sent to live with Odin Lowe.

But why? What had happened to Seis Clark? Was he even still alive? Perhaps it had been an accident that had killed both him and Aoi. But was it premeditated? Did I even care to know? I regretted having overlooked his file, but alas it was done. There'd be no going back there.

'So?' Wischard studied me from across the table. 'Will you be heading to Japan?'

He sipped his drink. My eyes returned to the file, to the address Oz had acquired most likely without the Clarks' permission. If Seis even knew about his wife's past. It was my most obvious lead. 'I haven't enough money to make it that far.'

It was the truth. I had to get a job, find something to do, before I was left completely penniless. I did not much like that and would have rather continued my investigation, yet there was no point making it all the way there only to be stuck at the spaceport unable to pay for a single train ticket.

'I'll help you.' Wischard looked serious. 'You helped me. Now, I'll help you.'

'How?'

He was even worse off than I was.

'I've… family here. In this country. Family I'd never thought I'd see again. Family that thinks me dead much as those soldiers back there did.'

There were certainly reasons why he had not contacted them to undo that misunderstanding. I wasn't going to pry, but I didn't feel right asking him to make so big a sacrifice for my sake. No matter how indebted he believed he was to me.

'You needn't go to so much trouble. I wouldn't have got this information without your help.' I waved the file in front of his eyes. 'We're already even.'

Wischard measured my words carefully. He sipped his drink again. I could sense there was something he meant to say, but still seemed to be debating with himself on whether or not to do it. For some reason, I hoped he wouldn't.

'I must go back. It's the right thing to do, but I cannot face my family alone. I won't. If left to myself, I'll simply run and hide much as I've been doing since the end of the war.' He was as uncomfortable as I, but he gathered the strength to meet my eyes anyway. It was commendable. 'I'm offering my help in exchange for yours.'

As unsettling a job as that might be, I saw no better option. Besides, I could relate. I had, after all, run away from my former team mates back at the hospital in Brussels. If Relena hadn't been there when I awoke, I would have run from her as well. She knew as much, that's why she had stood guard by my bedside.

'What will I be?'

The man across me seemed slightly confused for a moment. 'What I already said you were. A friend.'

* * *

We reached the train station early the next morning. The money I had left was just enough to get us to our destination, but Wischard seemed divided.

'Are you certain it isn't cheaper to travel by bus?' he asked me.

'It isn't. You looked it up yourself.'

'But you'll have little money left either way.'

'I thought that was the reason we were headed to your kin's. Besides, I see no other way.' I didn't understand his questions initially. They were too obvious, rhetorical… But then I had been standing a step behind him. Once I stood beside him and took a good look at his face, I understood.

He didn't want to go. He was scared of facing his family again. That was why he'd said he couldn't do it alone, why he'd asked for my help. It was my duty to get him there. The only problem was that I had no idea how to do it other than tying him up and dragging him. I did not feel like it.

Thankfully, Wischard's resolution was way stronger than mine.

'Would you mind if we walked there?'

'What?'

'It's not that far. You're not in that much of a hurry to get to Japan, are you?'

 _Am I?_ I wondered. Truth was I had no idea what awaited me there. Probably nothing.

'No. We may walk.'

'Good.' He sounded slightly breath-taken as if he'd expected a negative instead. It took him a moment to regain his senses. 'This way then. I gather it'll take us eleven… Twelve hours to get there, and adding a few short pauses to eat and rest…'

'Perhaps we should take our time. Stop along the way to rest for the night and get there tomorrow.'

'I think…' Wischard ran a hand down his thigh, stopping at the edge of his prosthetic leg. 'That might be a good idea. I haven't walked half as much as we're going to now. Not since the accident.'

'I knew someone who went through a similar accident.' I did not know why it suddenly came back to me, but I felt like I should tell him. 'The bottom half of his mobile suit was caught in a beam sabre blast. Then it exploded.'

'Did the pilot make it?'

'He did. He lost his memories… Though only for a short time.'

Wischard nodded to himself. 'That's good. If he hadn't recovered them… Well, I'd say that'd be even worse than losing a leg.'

'Worse?'

'I know it doesn't seem so, but… A leg is a leg. Your memory's who you are. Losing your memory is like losing yourself.'

He was right. Trowa had been a whole different person without his memories. Losing yourself… It was a scary prospect. There are things one just doesn't want to forget, but then – once you've forgotten them – I guess it makes little difference.

'How did _you_ make it?'

We stopped at a red light. The cars sped by us heedless of our pasts and presents, unconcerned about our torments or our futures. How great would it have been right then and there to just drive off into the sunset, pretend nothing else mattered. But then I'd always think of Relena because I still felt – as I had ever since I'd met her – that she was waiting for me to return. I could leave her behind yet she'd remain forever with me. I hadn't told her not to wait and I couldn't bear the thought of her watching out for me for the rest of her life.

'I was quick to turn on my propulsion.' Wischard began as we resumed walking. 'If it hadn't been for that… Scavengers found me hours after the battle. My wound had been partially cauterized by the blast itself so I managed not to lose life-threatening amounts of blood. When they stopped for fuel in X-18999 I was rushed to the hospital and then, once they discharged me, I wandered the colony until we met.'

'Coming back was never an option?'

'I didn't have the means. I suppose I could've contacted my family, but…' he shrugged. 'Have you any family? Other than whomever you're searching for in Japan?'

'No.'

'No friends? No one you even think of as family?'

Many faces came to mind. More faces than I'd have expected, but could they be called friends? Or family?

'I don't know.'

Somehow Wischard seemed to understand.

'I've a wife… and a sister.' He confessed though it appeared to pain him to do so. If it did, it must have been because he thought I was judging him for leaving them. I was not. How could I? I had left people behind myself.

'They were really worried when I enlisted, you see. And really angry.' He continued as we left the heart of the town and the buildings around us grew fewer and farther between. 'I thought – after all I'd been through – the last thing I needed was to hear their resentful "I told you so". I'd been included in the DIA list and I figured they'd be better off without me. Now, I realise I was just being selfish. I was ashamed of failing and disgusted by my lost leg… An eternal reminder.'

'Treize's Faction was all that stood between Earth and the White Fang. You saved the planet.'

'No, we didn't. The gundams did. Though I do recognise we played an important part. There's also the fact that I could've left. I could've left when Oz fell apart, when Treize was imprisoned, but I didn't. I wanted to continue fighting. I just wasn't done.'

'Hn.' I hadn't been done either. I still wasn't sure I was. 'And now?'

'Now?'

'Are you done now?'

The buildings all around us seemed to be over and the road, the entire world seemed a lot wider all of a sudden. 'Yeah.' Wischard said quietly, relieved. 'I'm done now.'

* * *

We went on longer than we'd originally planned. Wischard was very much in pain, limping much more obviously than usual, but the physical pain seemed to help him in a way, distract him from his fears and anxieties, so we kept on going.

By the time we checked into a roadside motel we were both exhausted. There were blisters on the soles of our feet and Wischard's leg stump was left raw and bleeding. He hissed when he removed the prosthetic leg then laughed bitterly at it.

'There was a time when wars were fought on foot and troops would march for hours every day.' He said. 'Those soldiers would crack up if they could see us now.'

I didn't partake in his amusement. 'Think you'll be able to continue?'

'Let's call the front desk, see if they have a med kit. A good dressing's all it needs.'

'There's no phone in the room. I'll go down and talk to them.'

'Thank you…' Wischard hesitated, looking down at his missing limb. 'Don't worry about tomorrow. I've been through this before… The blisters and scrapes. When I first started wearing this thing I needn't walk ten steps for them to show. I can work through the pain. You get used to it.'

'I know.' I suddenly seemed to recall every painful moment I'd ever been in, every injury sustained throughout training and then during the war… There were times when pain was all there was to feel. At those times it was even comforting in a way, the only reminder that I was still living. 'I've been there.'

Wischard nodded gravely. 'I was really angry back then… At myself and at the world. It was probably a good thing that I remained in outer space. If I'd returned I'd have pushed my family away. It'd have cost me much more than just a simple leg. Well…' he chuckled to himself. 'I guess it might still cost me, but at least I'll get to repay you. That's all that matters, that I don't owe anything to anyone.'

He hopped into the bathroom and disappeared behind the door, but it took me a while to gather my thoughts and make my way to the front desk. Something felt wrong, but I couldn't tell what. I knew Wischard was being honest and – I was surprised to realise – I did trust him, but I felt uncomfortable somehow. As if I was witnessing a crime and doing nothing to stop it. It only remained for me to tell what crime that was.

* * *

We didn't talk much the following day as we walked – in a significant amount of pain – the rest of the way, but once Wischard's family house came into view I simply had to. I'd had enough time to try and understand what had been bothering me and I _had_ reached a reasonable conclusion.

It was a humble home. You could see from the outside that it was small… A one storey, two bedroom, one bathroom house. But it was well taken care of and the façade seemed to have been painted recently. I feared for a moment Wischard's family might have repaired it in order to list it and that we'd no longer find them there, but as my companion halted at the crest of the hill to admire it, he didn't look at all concerned, merely anxious. Extremely so.

'Wischard.'

'Mmm?'

'If you risk losing your family… If the only reason you're doing this is to repay whatever debt you think you owe me, then you shouldn't. I already told you we're even.'

He smiled at me through the pain and – at that moment – as the sun set behind us and the street lights went on, he somehow looked infinitely older than he actually was.

'I'm glad to hear that.' He said. 'But no, I'm not doing this for you. I said before I wanted your help, needed it even, because this is the right thing to do, and yet I couldn't have done it alone. And though I didn't completely mean it back then, I do so now. Now, that I'm exhausted and in nearly unbearable pain, I can tell you I ache for nothing more than home. My wife's welcoming smile, the old armchair by the fire and a cup of tea made with the herbs my sister grows in our backyard.'

'Hn.'

I understood his words, but I wasn't sure I grasped the feeling. Perhaps, having never really had a home, I simply couldn't. Still I wondered if that feeling was what awaited me at the end of my journey… In Japan. Or was it? Was this feeling of peace and belonging what I was ultimately looking for?

'So?' Wischard eyed me expectantly. 'Shall we?'

Something strong seemed to guide my companion down that hill, to lead him past the short wooden gate into the yard and all the way up to the porch. It faltered when he faced the front door however, and it was then I ceased to be a spectator. I crossed the line between pretending we were nothing but acquaintances and accepting we'd become friends somewhere along the way.

I rang the bell.

The woman who opened the door looked nothing like Wischard so I immediately assumed she was the wife. She looked shocked and confused, painfully so, but her missing husband offered no explanation. My new friend did nothing but stand there, a foot away from her, in silence.

A whole minute must have passed before that silence was broken. And not by words.

It was suddenly my turn to be completely shocked. I admit I even took an unconscious step back as the woman slapped him and then again and again until she went from fuming to weeping, threw her arms around Wischard's neck and pulled him into a vicious hug.

'Oh, Wischard!' she chanted between tears and they both cried.

To this very day, I dare say that was the most unpredictable, scariest scene I've ever witnessed and yet – despite the obvious awkwardness of my presence – for once in my life, I did not feel out of place.

* * *

At my friend's insistence, I stayed at the Kemenys' house for a week while the broken soles of my feet healed. I met Wischard's sister, I tried the herbal tea he'd mentioned, I was present when he told his family what had happened in the war and how he'd lost his leg, I heard the stories of how he and his wife had met and of the pranks his sister used to pull as a child only so her brother would take the blame, I was given a tour of the neighbourhood and witnessed many a reencounter.

They were very grateful to me and gave me plenty of money for the journey ahead. I wasn't exactly in a position where I could refuse them, pride or no pride. And – finally – on the night before I left, as Wischard and I sat at the porch, watching the stars and blowing clouds of hot air into the sky, I told him my story. All of it.

'Thank you.' He said after a moment of silence. 'If even the tiniest piece of Libra had fallen onto Earth my family might not have made it.'

'You're not surprised?'

'I'd never met a soldier with as sharp a mind and as cold an attitude as yours. Not at so young an age at least… People did say back then that the gundam pilots were remarkably young. I suspected you were someone big. I just never thought you were _that_ big.'

'Hn.'

'You saved that which you were initially set on destroying.'

'I've always felt connected to this planet somehow. I thought it was an ancestry thing because Earth _is_ where the human species was born, but it seems I may have been born here myself after all.'

Wischard pulled his coat tighter around him as he glanced up at the stars. They were particularly bright in the wintry sky and quite numerous, especially that night. 'It seems to me you do have a family back there, if you ever wish for one.'

On a certain level, seeing the life my friend and his wife had built together, had made me yearn for something I never thought I would, but I still couldn't see myself leading that life. I still didn't know who I was or what I was supposed to do or even how to turn that peaceful picture into reality. What if, once I had it all, I felt nothing but smothered by it?

'I know that now.' Was all I told Wischard, because I did see the truth in his words.

'I hope you discover what you're looking for, my friend. And – if ever you find your mind's standing in your way – put pen to paper. It helps me organize my thoughts when there's no one to talk to. Maybe it'll help you straighten yours as well.'

'Thank you, Wischard. For everything.'

'Don't mention it. Come visit us whenever.' He peeked over his shoulder at the front door and smiled when he noticed the faint sound of his wife singing. 'I feel for once I've no need to go anywhere and I'm sure that'll be for a long time.'

* * *

I couldn't read the sign above the doorbell. I reckoned I must have started learning Japanese at some point, but then I had been too young to remember any of it and – once I moved in with Lowe – it had all just faded away. It was the right address though. I was certain of it.

A man in his early thirties answered the door. No, he did not know any Aoi or Seis Clark, but then he was a foreigner and he'd only been living there for a few years. 'My landlady must know something.' He said. 'I'll give you her number. She's owned the place for at least a decade, I should think.'

I thanked him and went on my way. I wasn't sure what I'd expected to find, but I felt like that was the end of my search and I couldn't even tell whether that made me feel disappointed or relieved. I was certain I'd find nothing, yet I still wandered the streets in search of a place where I could use a phone.

I chastised myself for not asking to use the foreign guy's phone, but then I'd been so unsettled by the whole situation the idea had never occurred to me. It wasn't the kind of conversation I'd have anyone eavesdrop on anyway, not even a stranger.

As the afternoon wore on, I left the residential part of town and approached its bustling centre. I ignored the shops, stopping only once I'd found an inn. The place was old, traditional, and the owner spoke little English, but that – coupled with what little Japanese I'd seemed to unconsciously retain – proved to be enough to get me both a room and a phone.

It was only as I prepared to dial the landlady's number that it struck me… What was I going to tell her? What excuses would I give to be looking for the Clarks?

 _The truth_. I told myself. _Tell her the truth._

Yes, but what was it? Was I a man searching for his lost family? That was neither unusual nor impossible, especially not in times of war, yet somehow it did not feel like that was really what I was doing.

 _She doesn't need to know._

So I called her.

She sounded like an old lady and spoke with a heavy Japanese accent, pausing thoughtfully between words. The house where the _Kurakus_ – as she called them – had lived their last years had been in her family for generations or, at least, the land had, for the house itself had already been rebuilt a couple of times. None of that information was of any interest to me though.

'So you knew the Clarks.' It was truly more of a question than a statement.

'Ah… _Hai_.' I could see her nod in my mind's eye though she sounded strangely hesitant. 'It was Aoi's mother I knew the most, actually. She asked me to let them the house.'

'Aoi's…mother?'

 _'_ _Hai_. Tanaka Junko*. If you wish to know more about the _Kurakus_ it is Tanaka- _san_ you should talk to.'

'Hn.'

'I will give you her telephone number.' She was suddenly in a hurry, clearly eager to get rid of me.

'Would you, perhaps, have her address too?' I hoped I didn't sound as suspicious to her as I did in my own head. I feared she might hang up on me so I decided to elaborate. 'You see, I…'

 _Dammit_. I cleared my throat, as unused to emotional talk – or any talk at all – as a man had the right to be.

'To be honest, I believe I may be related to her and her late daughter and I think that's hardly a conversation to be had over the phone.'

The silence seemed to last a lifetime and I was already sure she would refuse me when her voice cut through my thoughts. 'I should not…' she began. 'But you sound truthful… So I will.'

And because she said I was telling the truth, I decided to believe her.

* * *

For a man who'd thought he'd find nothing, finding one's grandmother just seemed like too much. I did take the train out of the city and into the countryside, but – if I'm to be completely honest – the thought of turning around and running in the opposite direction did cross my mind.

More than once.

I had no idea what to expect or, especially, how to behave. And even though I didn't wish to upset or offend anyone, I was determined to be myself and to follow my emotions 'til the very end. So if heartfelt explanations and joyful tears were a must have then I'd just say I'd made a grievous mistake and take my immediate leave.

In fact, I didn't just think that was a possibility. In my mind, it was a certainty. I had no experience dealing with people, their feelings and expectations… I didn't know how to have a family, to be a part of one, so surely I'd be on my way sooner rather than later.

Colonization had driven humans out of Earth, giving the planet a chance to recover from all the harm we had done, but that wasn't all. People who clung to tradition, who stuck to the old ways had also thrived from the suddenly emptying cities and villages and I doubted I'd ever see a place where that was as obvious as in the Japanese countryside. Technology was present, of course. Extremely modern machines and adapted mobile suits were used in agriculture, but the roads were almost completely deserted of automobiles, and the narrow sleet-covered pathways travelled by the occasional cycle were surrounded by the still snow-blanketed fields and forests.

It took me half an hour to walk from the train platform to the residence of my would-be relatives. From the main road I took one of the slender pathways. It soon veered right past a waist-high shrubbery fence, which had turned into a snow block, and into a white painted garden. I had already expected the house would have a more traditional style so I wasn't exactly awed or intimidated by it. The _shooji_ doors which led into the living room were wide open despite the piercing cold outside and I decided to approach from that side, hopefully I wouldn't startle the residents with my sudden and awkward arrival.

She sat at the _kotatsu_ with a steaming cup of tea in her tiny wrinkled hands. Her grey hair was tied up behind her head in a bun and her eyes were half-closed behind her glasses. I cleared my throat as I neared the edge of the _engawa_ , though I needn't have. There was gravel around and underneath the house and that, together with the snow and sleet, crunched under my boots. Our gazes crossed and whatever doubts I still had as to her identity vanished.

It felt as if I were looking into my own eyes.

'Sachiko!' the old woman called as she stood. Her piercing gaze remained on me, unmoving, but if she had somehow recognised me it didn't seem to affect her at all. Another woman shouted something unintelligible from somewhere inside the house before rushing into the room. She froze when she saw me, and I could see she meant to say something, probably to inquire if I needed help with anything, but the old woman cut in. ' _Aoi no musuko da_.' She said and the spreading smile vanished from Sachiko's face.

'Odin?' she asked in a whisper.

' _Un_.'

I frowned at them unsure of what they were saying. All I knew was that they were talking about Odin. Or maybe they were calling _me_ Odin, for I suddenly remembered I had once been called that myself. It took them a minute to figure out what to do, but at last the old woman barked something at the younger, and Sachiko walked to the edge of the _engawa_ to greet me.

'I don't speak Japanese.' I told her before she could launch into a long and complex questionnaire.

'You've… You've forgotten? Are you really Odin? Are you really Aoi's son? Mother's acquaintance called to say you were coming.' _She did?_ I shouldn't have been so surprised, yet I felt that made my life easier somehow and I was slightly relieved. 'A young man who said he might be related to us.'

'It's what I've been led to believe. Though it's Heero now. Yui Heero*.'

I wasn't sure I had the right to use that name anymore… Not since the war had ended, not since I'd just realized I'd had another name before it, one that had been given to me by my own mother. But that was the only name my war-family – at least according to Wischard – knew me by and so I clung to it.

'Sachiko.' Her austere mother gave her more orders or so it seemed.

'She says you should come in and tell us your story. And, please, do not forget to take off your shoes.'

'Hn.'

* * *

I told them the truth, though I omitted many things. Things I didn't remember, things I thought were irrelevant to them. _People_ I thought were irrelevant to them. I did not want to leave them any openings to question me further about my life or lack thereof. However, I couldn't stop them from inquiring about my reasons for seeking them out. Thankfully, I'd known that question would come and I'd prepared for it.

'This last attempt on peace left me thinking that I should come back to Earth and search for my roots before someone actually succeeded in destroying the planet.' It was a lie, of course, but I had no other excuse, which didn't make me sound like a freeloader, and the actual truth was just too personal for me to share.

Junko, my supposed grandmother, who had until that moment sat watching me like a statue, spoke up as Sachiko finished translating my answer. 'She said it's a good thing that you left the colonies. They only exist to brew evil and foment discord. Earth is where we all belong.' I nodded though I didn't agree and the daughter smiled in understanding while her mother went on. 'She says you need not worry anymore, for you are amidst family now, and that you should stay and relearn our ways and our language.'

It sounded more like an order than a suggestion. I could tell Sachiko was downplaying the old woman's words, but I could not blame her. My eyes were hard and unyielding on Junko's face. 'I'll stay.' I told the daughter and bowed. ' _Arigatou gozaimasu_.'

She seemed to be as surprised by my acceptance as I was.

* * *

The first place Sachiko took me to was the room next door where – right in the middle of the wall opposite the door we'd just crossed – stood a _butsudan_. Aoi's picture was at the heart of it. She looked young in it, happy and carefree. I was surprised my eyes, the eyes of Junko, could smile like that. On both sides of the portrait stood candlesticks and thin flower vases with dried up chrysanthemums in them. Incense sticks sat in a sand filled bowl in front of the picture, waiting.

'You may light one if you like.'

I didn't feel I had the right to. 'I did not know her.'

'You will. Mother has never really let her go. I think that's why she's so adamant that you stay. She loved my sister more than anyone.'

'Hn.'

'They were very much alike, both strong-willed women. Often at odds with each other, always fighting. Aoi wanted out of here, she wanted to see the world, to travel to the colonies. Mother wanted her to stay.'

'Yet she didn't.'

Sachiko smiled. 'No, she didn't.'

'I take it your mother wasn't pleased when she came back pregnant.'

'My sister wasn't a child anymore. She knew what she was doing, but, no, mother wasn't happy. She demanded Aoi get married right away and to a man of my mother's choice. And Aoi did get married, but to Seis, a man of her own choice.'

'So she wasn't forced to marry?'

'Oh, no. Pregnancy or no pregnancy, she wouldn't have got married if she did not want to. Aoi never cared what others thought of her.' She sounded surprised I'd ask, thoughtfully so. 'Were you worried?'

I guess, in an unconscious level, I had been. I didn't want to be the one responsible for ruining yet another life. I had enough blame on my shoulders as it was. But, of course, I didn't tell Sachiko that. Instead I said nothing as I watched her light an incense to her sister and make what seemed to be a short prayer. I knew nothing about religions or customs even though I was so familiar with death.

'How did she die?'

Sachiko took a very deep breath. It shuddered unsteadily. 'Seis shot her then himself. Or at least that's what the police concluded.'

'But you don't believe it.'

'No. I still think someone had them killed. My sister never told us what she did out there, in the colonies, but – whatever it was – I know she knew too much. Seis probably tried to defend her.' She turned back round to face me. 'In fact, I think _you_ are the only reason why they let her live for so long after coming back home.'

 _Or maybe she talked and was eliminated._ I thought. It wouldn't be the first time something like that happened. 'It had crossed my mind that they might have silenced her.'

' _Un_.' Sachiko glanced back at her sister's portrait. 'She lived the life she dreamed of. I know she would've liked to watch you grow, but she still led a happier life than most of us. No regrets, _ne_?'

 _No regrets_.

* * *

'I'm sorry we didn't keep all of your things…' Sachiko stepped away from the open closet and I peeked at the big carton box at its floor. It was filled to the brim with colourful toys and old stained clothes. 'I don't know why my sister registered you as Odin Lowe's son and not Seis Clark's, but – whatever her reasons – because of that you were sent to live with your father when she died and Odin sent us no news. At some point, we started getting rid of things… We thought you were dead.'

I approached and, glancing at the contents of the box from up close, I could see there were a few of Aoi's belongings in it as well. I shook my head, overwhelmed not by her words but by the realisation that I had indeed been a child once, a child that owned toys and played for the sake of playing.

'I didn't expect you to have kept anything at all.'

'I'll leave you to it then. There are towels, a _futon_ and duvets tucked there in the shelves. Please, make yourself at home.'

'I will.'

'If you need me, I'll be in the kitchen.'

Toys, clothes, picture books, jewels. I pulled many things out of that box. I did not recognise any of them. But then how could I? I'd been only 3 or 4 when Aoi died. Yet as I looked at all those sparkly things, some of them worn out by time, others belonging to the Clarks and not to me, I couldn't help hoping for _something._ Anything. I expected some sort of revelation to come over me, perhaps a sign that that place was indeed where I belonged, where I was supposed to be.

There was nothing though.

The toys were just moulded pieces of plastic and the clothes were just sewn scraps of fabric.

And I was still just Heero Yui.

* * *

An hour or so later, Sachiko came to tell me dinner would soon be served and that I could wait in the living room. Junko was still there. A television I hadn't noted earlier stood in the corner, a young hostess in a tailleur was going on about something, but the old lady at the _kotatsu_ was much too distracted by whatever lay in front of her. As I stepped up behind her I could see it was a family album.

Junko met my eye and I made an awkward reverence. It seemed to be acceptable for she motioned for me to sit and pushed the book towards me pointing at one of the images with a long well-tended nail. I looked down and there, staring back at me, with big dark blue eyes and a mop of brown hair was Odin Lowe Junior. He held his mother's hand as she leaned over him, smiling reassuringly. I wondered if her loving words had been enough to erase the suspicious look from his face.

She showed me countless other pictures. Enough that it became clear to me the Clarks had been an ordinary and happy family however short their time together had been. In many images Odin was smiling widely, carelessly. In most of them, actually. Yet the only picture that I really identified with was the first one. The serious suspicious looking kid… Only in him did I glimpse the remotest trace of myself.

I wondered if that cheerful boy still lived inside me somewhere or if he had gone away with my innocence. Had I been present when the Clarks were killed? I decided I couldn't have. I would've certainly remembered something like that. Such is life. You learn from what pains and scares you because those feelings are the ones which mark us deeper than any other. Happiness comes and goes in waves. And, even though the little child in the photographs was the spitting image of me, I was still just Heero Yui.

* * *

The next morning I sat at the _engawa_ , watching the frozen landscape when Sachiko approached me with a plain wooden tray bearing two cups of tea and a plate of _onigiri_. I had offered to help her at the kitchen earlier, but had been effusively refused as Junko had put up quite an opposition. Perhaps I shouldn't have meddled in their affairs so soon, but waited until I was familiarized with their customs before taking any action. The problem was that I felt restless and that restlessness, the lack of something to put mind and effort to was eating at me.

'Once spring comes you may work at the garden if you wish.' Sachiko sat _seiza-_ style beside me, the tray between us. 'Your mother loved this garden. She always took such good care of it, but it's been abandoned ever since she left for the colonies. I think mother saw it as a way to punish her.'

'Won't she be opposed to my restoring it then?'

' _U-un_.' She shook her head, seemingly lost in memories of Aoi. 'She hinted at it herself. "An idle man is an unhappy man." she said. I think she can sense your unease.'

'Hn.'

'And then, if you wish, I can help you find a job. What did you do when you were in the colonies?'

'A spot of everything… Delivery, security, informatics, but mostly I fixed mobile suits.'

'We've a lot of machines around here that people use for agriculture. Mobile suits too. It shouldn't be hard for you to find something to do.'

 _Yes_. I thought. _But spring is still at least a couple months away. What will I do until then?_

And then there was the fact that I hadn't planned on staying that long. Junko had said I should stay, but I'd thought she had meant for the winter only. Now, I could see she had meant for me to stay for a long time if not forever, yet I wasn't sure I could… Despite everything _and_ the fact that I had nowhere else to go.

Except, perhaps, Relena's.

Or any of my former teammates' really.

Wischard had said that I could consider them a family if I wanted to and I didn't think they'd turn me down, but I was too proud to ask for their help and too conflicted to accept Relena's.

'I suppose… I could learn your language meanwhile.' I picked up one of the steaming cups.

'It's your language too.'

'I guess now it is.'

I glanced back at the slowly melting snow. I had been there before… In that house, at that _engawa_. I'd seen the pictures and, even though I couldn't remember, in that very spot it all suddenly came together…

My past, my present and my future.

* * *

And so came spring and I could speak and understand Japanese as well as if I'd never stopped. Reading and writing took a lot more work, but I was making progress.

I'd found old photos of the garden as it had been while Aoi lived there and decided I'd restore it to its previous form, both because I lacked the imagination to landscape and because I felt I owed it to her. I hadn't returned to the little _butsudan_ ever since my first day in that house, but even though I didn't feel I had the right to go there and light an incense I still felt I needed to do something, _anything_ , to pay my respects.

Gardening was slow work. It relied way too much on nature, which was frustratingly unpredictable, and so turned out to be quite an exercise in patience. I wasn't at my most patient, however, having accumulated far too much energy throughout the winter, and so working on the garden became a mere past time while Sachiko helped me find a more serious occupation.

It took us a month. Not just because I lacked references and credentials, but because – despite being their family – I was a foreigner. I had a different name and I carried the stigma of being a bastard child, of having murdered parents, of having been brought up in the colonies and having fought in the war. To the simple-minded country folk, I appeared to be a magnet for misfortune not to mention most soldiers were branded with the image of misfits as well as potential trouble makers. It didn't help that I refused to divulge for which side I had fought, yet for whatever reason I couldn't bring myself to lie.

The man who finally gave me an opportunity, was a former soldier himself though thirty years older and a local and, therefore, much more reliable. Itsuki Morimoto had been an Alliance major. He had retired before the war, saving himself some of the trouble I was facing, but that didn't mean he couldn't sympathise. There wasn't much work at his mobile suit repair shop at the moment nor money to spare, yet he offered me a part-time job as an apprentice anyway.

I didn't even think before I said yes.

It felt good to be around MSs once again and to know what I was doing. Morimoto was impressed with my work and, as they grew less wary and more curious about me, the local farmers started bringing more work to the shop. My working hours doubled, my salary doubled and the more mobile suits I fixed the more people respected me.

Junko was pleased with me as well. She didn't say much, but she watched me work at the garden in my free time, and she started spending more time at the _engawa_ when summer came and the grass spread and the flowers bloomed.

And then the harvest came and the MSs we'd fixed were working at the fields and the leaves in the trees were falling and the flowers wilted and crumbled.

Then, suddenly, Sachiko and I were watching from the _engawa_ as the first snow fell and the garden was slowly covered in a white blanket and it was winter again.

In the blink of an eye, I had been there for a year and, in the blink of another, ten years had passed.

* * *

GLOSSARY (I know some of the words may seem obvious, but you never know, eh?)

 **Culture and Architecture**

 _Shooji doors_ : wooden frame covered in rice paper used as a partition in Japanese houses

 _Kotatsu_ : a low table adapted with a duvet and a heat source underneath

 _Engawa_ : a Japanese style veranda

 _Butsudan_ : a small indoors buddhist altar for prayer and honouring the dead

 _Futon_ : thin Japanese mattress which during the day can be rolled up or folded and kept in the closet

 _Onigiri_ : rice ball

 _Seiza_ : a traditional, formal sitting style with the legs folded underneath the thighs

 **Language**

 _Hai_ = Yes

 _-san_ = a formal suffix equivalent in English to the prefixes _Mrs_ or _Mr_

 _'Aoi no musuko da.'_ = 'It's Aoi's son.'

 _'Un' & 'U-un'_ = an informal 'Yes' and 'No', respectively. The equivalent of our 'M-Hmm' or 'Uh-uh'

 _'Arigatou gozaimasu.'_ = 'Thank you very much.'

 _ne?_ = used at the end of a phrase when you prompt someone to agree with you, sort of like 'right?' or 'eh?' or 'huh?'

* * *

TRIVIA

 **Names and Surnames**

 _Yui_ : for whatever reason, I prefer and usually write Yuy with a 'Y' at the end, but in this case I've adopted the more correct Japanese version.

 _Wischard_ : is an old Norman name meaning 'brave' and 'wise', while his surname ( _Kemeny_ ) is Hungarian and means 'hard/tough'.

 _Tanaka_ : Aoi's family name means 'dweller in the rice fields' because I meant it to be an old family, a family that grew and prospered from agriculture back in the day.

 _Junko_ : means 'obedient child' because she's a very strict and traditional person.

 _Sachiko_ : means 'happy/lucky child'. There's a hidden joke here actually, because Aoi can mean 'blue', a synonym for 'sad' in English.

 _Itsuki_ : means 'tree' and Morimoto 'origin/root of the forest'. He's the man who gave Heero security and allowed him to establish roots by offering him a job.


	3. Kekkon

*The asterisks mark the places in this chapter where the name order was inverted (surname before given name) according to the Japanese custom.*

 _ **Chapter III**_

 _ **Kekkon (Marriage)**_

It was early 208 and we'd been having a mild winter. There had been little snow and many sunny days so I should've known, when I woke up to the angry howling of a snowstorm, that things were about to change and that my long decade of peace was at last coming to an end.

Sachiko knew I kept a strict routine and always woke up early in order to go to work so she was at the door before I'd even moved. ' _Hiiro-kun_?' she called through the screen. She'd adopted that silly suffix not long after I'd settled in and, even though I was now a full-grown man, she still stuck to it. 'Are you awake?'

' _Hai_.'

'Morimoto- _san_ was just on the phone. He asked me to tell you he won't be opening the shop today because of the blizzard. So will you be sleeping in? Would you like me to bring your breakfast in here?'

' _Iie._ I'll be right there.'

I should have stayed in bed.

Junko was in an odd mood. She was, much like myself, a person of very few words. That was how I could tell, by the way she watched me as I took my seat at the _kotatsu,_ that something was on her mind and, because we rarely exchanged more than a few pleasantries each day, I had a feeling it would not bode well.

On the television, in the corner, the weatherman and news anchors were going on about the snowstorm; I pretended to be interested in them in an attempt to stop her speaking to me. It worked, though only until the commercial break.

'I need you here for lunch next Monday.'

It was not a question and my acquiescence was a given, yet I couldn't help asking. 'Why?'

She did not meet my eye. I should've seen it as an ill omen. 'I think it's time you got married so I've found you a suitable bride. You'll be meeting her here on Monday.'

At first, I wasn't sure I had understood her. I replayed her dogmatic words in my head and everything around me seemed to have grown warily quiet. Then I heard the bell ring at the altar in the next room, as Sachiko offered Aoi a bowl of steamed rice – something she did every morning – and the spell was broken.

' _Yome_?' I asked because I knew not what else to say. The word, which I had probably never used, felt foreign in my tongue.

' _Hai_. I've a couple more candidates if you don't like this one, but I believe she is by far the best of the three. She's young and ripe and her family is an honourable one. Flower farmers. They never left the country, least of all the planet. You might have more options if you weren't still seen as a _gaijin_ by so many locals, but our family's well-respected and any of these three ladies would be pleased to join it.'

I said nothing. There were no words in my tongue even though, in my head, I wondered if anyone could truly be pleased with an arranged marriage. I hadn't even been aware they still existed.

'You've proven to be a hardworking and reliable man.' She went on. 'Had my daughter not consigned you to that horrid _gaijin_ , you'd have been brought up here and would have had countless proposals. Our family might have seen its golden days again. Now, it is all you can do to hope for a good marriage… But I'm sure renown and tradition will be restored by the future generations.'

She would have droned on and planed my whole life had Sachiko not arrived with the food. I was so shocked and clueless as to how I could confront her – though she felt she had the right to marry me off, I still didn't feel like I had the right to question her – I would have easily let her do as she wished.

* * *

Of all the times for Junko to start talking to me, she had to do it on the only day I had absolutely nowhere to run. The repair shop was closed and outside the snowstorm raged on. I tried to go back to sleep, but I was wide awake, my mind running in circles, unable to focus long enough to provide me with a sensible solution. Had this happened ten years earlier I would have simply shrugged it off and left, but now I felt like I had something to lose, whatever it was I had conquered during that last decade, and I didn't want to act harshly. I didn't want to regret my decision though it seemed no matter what I chose I could not win.

Marrying a woman who did not know me or my past, yet still had numerous expectations of me was the same as chaining myself forever to a life I wasn't sure I wanted, and not marrying meant disobeying Junko which inevitably meant leaving, starting over somewhere new, and I wasn't sure I still had the energy to do it. Besides, surprisingly enough, I was satisfied with the boring life I'd been leading.

So I left my room and went to the kitchen where I knew I'd find Sachiko. She knew her mother, her family and their traditions a lot better than I ever would, and I supposed there could be no better advisor for me at that moment. I didn't like to seek one, but I knew I needed help getting my thoughts in order.

'Did you know?'

She'd been washing the dishes, but she stopped when she heard me walk in and wiped her hands on her apron. 'That _Hahaue_ planned to have you married?' she met my eyes and needed no further answer. ' _Hai_. I suspected it, at the very least, but thought it wasn't my place to intervene.'

Sachiko played safe, never taking sides, so I knew I could trust her not to run to Junko with my objections. I just wasn't sure she would help me either. 'And if I don't wish to?'

'What reasons would you have to refuse a good marriage? Are you not happy here? Your life would not change much.'

 _Except that it would._ I thought.

I liked my peace and quiet and the thought of coming home after a long day to a whining wife, crying babies and screaming children just seemed like a nightmare. Also, surely a man, who thought like that, could never make a great father or husband and I didn't want to condemn anyone else to that miserable future.

'Are any of the rumours true?' Sachiko's words brought me back to the here and now. 'You've never shown an interest in anyone ever since you arrived here. All you do is work.'

There had been many rumours about me throughout the years. It was expected in a small town and, because they came and went so easily, I paid them no mind. First, there had been whispers that, because I didn't pursue any of the local women, I must like men. Then, as time passed and I showed no interest in men either, the locals speculated that I must have married an embarrassing woman in the colonies before fleeing to the ESUN and abandoning her. That was a recurrent story. I had later heard another one about my getting castrated in the war or in a savage inhabited colony somewhere far away from Earth.

It was always my boss, Morimoto- _san_ , who shared the latest absurd theory with me and he'd laugh until my frown turned into a scowl and then he'd slap me on the back and tell me to go back to work.

'No. None of them are true.'

'Not even the one about you having someone already? A lost lover taken away by the war? A one-sided love? You don't talk about yourself and you haven't told us much about your past.'

I sighed. She was right, of course, and I knew that was about to change, no matter how unwilling I might be. 'I've no need to pursue anyone.'

'Have you really thought about this? When _Chichiue_ died, I knew I'd never marry. Aoi was long gone so it was my duty to look after our mother. I convinced myself I didn't need anyone anyway, yet at times I find myself wondering if I'll die alone.' It was a heartfelt confession and once it was done she looked instantly horrified. ' _Gomenasai._ I shouldn't have…'

I raised a hand to stop her and shook my head to show it didn't matter.

Sachiko took a deep breath. ' _Gomen, Hiiro-kun._ I just think your mother wouldn't have liked you to mistake having a job for having a life. Aoi would have wanted you to be happy. I understand you not wanting to marry someone you don't know, but to Junko the pros overweigh the cons, so you better have a good argument if you wish to convince her otherwise.'

I nodded my thanks and turned to leave, but then I realised that conversation hadn't only been about me and I felt that I owed Sachiko for being so crudely honest with me. 'Aoi would have wanted you to be happy yourself.' I said over my shoulder and left before the tears in her eyes could spill.

* * *

'Put pen to paper.' Wischard had said. And, since there was nothing else for it at that moment, I did.

 _Reasons not to get married_

 _1._ _No one does it anymore;_

 _2._ _The few who still do, do it because they care for each other;_

 _3._ _You need to know someone to care for them;_

 _4._ _If this woman knew me, she would not marry me;_

 _5._ _I don't want her to know me._

I admit I scowled at that list for a long time because of how absurd and ridiculous it all was. This could not be my life. It could not be Heero Yui's life. But then whose life was it? Odin Junior's? Had I finally become him?

No, I still couldn't relate to the smiling little boy in those old family pictures, yet I realised I wasn't the same man anymore. How could I after a whole decade? I might have unconsciously tried to remain the same by limiting my life to my work, but if that was so then I had clearly failed. I was part of a family now. I was a Tanaka and I understood then I had to look at that list as Junko's grandson would, with respect for tradition and clever revolt.

 _Acceptable reasons not to get married_

 _1._ _The bride isn't honourable enough;_

 _2._ _The bride's family isn't honourable enough;_

 _3._ _The bride changes her mind;_

 _4._ _The bride's family changes their mind;_

 _5._ _I'm legally unable (a.k.a. already married to someone else);_

 _6._ _I present Junko with a better option and she changes her mind._

Looking at that second list I felt I'd already lost the battle.

I crossed out numbers one and two for Junko had already handpicked both the family and the bride so the time for her to find them dishonourable was surely past us. Numbers three and four were crossed out for similar reasons. The family and the bride had already accepted Junko's proposal, meaning they had enough knowledge about us and it seemed unlikely they'd suddenly change their minds about the agreement. I suppose I could've made a fool of myself at the lunch on Monday and scared them away, but I was no clown and, in reality, far too proud to do it. Number five wasn't an option for the simple reason that I wasn't married and it was impossible for me to get married in less than a week, not to mention the whole goal was not to get married in the first place.

In conclusion, all I was left with was number six and I had no idea what would – from Junko's perspective – be a better option than marrying me off so my children could restore the family's name and honour. I did, however, have six and a half days to find out.

* * *

'She wants me to rescue the family.' I told Morimoto, when we finally got back to our actual work, three days later. The blizzard had lasted two days and then it had taken us an extra day to clear the snow off roads, pathways, doorways and windows. So it was already Thursday by the time we managed to resume fixing mobile suits. I'd nearly run my brain to pieces in the mean time, but to no avail. 'And other than a good marriage, I really can't see another way to do that.'

The Tanakas had made a name for themselves by planting rice, yet for the last two generations – at least – there'd been no farmers in the family and the land had been let. I could barely keep the garden alive so the only way to resurrect the Tanakas' name was to bring into the family someone who still had land and still farmed and still knew how to. A farmer's daughter.

'I suppose I could go to college… Study to be a farmer.'

'Is that what you want?'

'No.'

Morimoto looked thoughtful as his eyes roamed around the shop. We only had one mobile suit left to fix and we'd be done by the end of the week. 'Isn't the whole point to avoid doing something you don't want to?'

I shrugged. I'd gone to school a few times before though often in disguise. I'd used a former teammate's name once. Once I'd been Relena's classmate and, when I'd transferred, she had somehow located me and driven all the way to see me, and then later I'd studied at her own school in Sanc. It'd always felt confining.

A farmer's work also seemed dull and boring.

Yet what other choice did I have?

'You _can_ turn her down, you know.' Morimoto sounded ashamed of his suggestion.

'Who?'

'Bride number one. Find some fault with her. Turn her down. Just to buy yourself some time.'

'I do not wish to insult her or her family.'

'Then tell your grandmother you wish to meet all appointed brides before making your choice. That's sensible enough.'

I didn't like it. I didn't like it one bit. Besides, what good would that stolen time bring me? I had no idea what to do and I needed a more permanent solution. Morimoto went on.

'I'm thinking of closing the shop for a couple of weeks… Maybe a month. Winter's not a favourable time for business. Too much snow, too little work. Why not use this break to go on a trip? Get away from here. You're young and you've been confined to this tiny village for ten years! You must have saved enough money by now, _ne_? If you need more, let me know and I'll pay you an advance.'

'And where would I go?' I raised an eyebrow at him with a touch of annoyance. If I'd wanted to run away I'd have done so already.

'Have you not a wife you abandoned in the colonies?'

By the look in his eye it was obvious there was more to that statement than one might think. 'You're proposing I come back married?' I had told him I didn't want to. Even though I'd not mentioned that absurd idea _had_ crossed my mind if only for a fraction of a second.

'Why not? You don't need to marry her for real. All you need are the papers.'

I frowned in confusion. 'How's that not real?'

'I meant…' Morimoto cleared his throat. 'You don't need to get intimate with her. Or really even know her that well. You won't be living with her.'

'Junko would wish to meet her and what excuse would I give her? Why would I, if I was married, bring back nothing but papers? Why would I not bring my wife back with me?'

'You could say she refused to come. Maybe that's why you parted ways in the first place? Or maybe she vanished and the papers are all that's left?'

'This thread of lies has turned into a web, Morimoto- _san_. And I've the feeling I'm the one who's going to get caught in it.'

Someone walked in then and though only the silhouette was visible against the glass door I immediately recognised Sachiko's ramrod straight back and fidgeting hands. I'd never seen her leave the house alone in ten years, but what surprised me most was that she was wearing a _kimono_. A very heavy and thick-layered wintry one. I gestured for Morimoto to remain sited and crossed the dark shop to go talk to her.

'You're here.' She clasped her restless hands in joyous relief. 'You didn't come home last night so I thought you'd run away… Junko's very displeased. She sent me to look for you.'

'We were shovelling the snow yesterday and it was already late when we finished so I decided to stay the night.'

That was only partially true. It hadn't been so late that I could not have gone home, but I'd needed time away from all of it. And I realised right then and there that Morimoto might be right about me going on a trip. Sachiko's eyes were on him, though he was but a blur in the darkness and her fidgeting increased as she grew wary. 'Who's that?'

'That's my boss. Morimoto Itsuko- _san_ *.'

'Ah…'

'Have you not met?' I frowned at her for it had been Sachiko who'd arranged for me to meet him ten years earlier.

'No. Not in person, I haven't. We only ever spoke through the phone.' She was still uncomfortable, but forced herself to turn back to me. 'I should go… Could you come back earlier today? Just to placate her a little.'

By 'her' she meant Junko, of course.

' _Iie_.' I shook my head firmly, watching Sachiko grow paler. She probably thought I was refusing to return at all. At that moment, it did cross my mind to refuse to go back unless the whole marriage deal had been forgotten, but that'd be acting like a child. 'I've work to do. We'll be taking time off soon and we need everything to be finished in time.'

Work was an acceptable excuse. She bowed briefly both to me and to the shadow-dwelling spectre that was Morimoto, then left. I watched her walk hurriedly up the street and could not – for the life of me – figure out how she managed to move so swiftly in _geta_ and taking such short steps.

'Who _was_ that?'

I turned to glance at Morimoto, who was suddenly past me, trying to get one last glimpse of the unexpected apparition. He sounded awed, as if he'd just witnessed something indescribable, even though he'd seen nothing but her silhouette. The black contours of a troubled Japanese woman against the white of the glimmering snow outside.

'That was my aunt. Tanaka Sachiko*.'

'If you'd told me she was coming, I'd have opened the garage doors!'

 _And then we'd have frozen._ I mused with a frown. He could've just turned on the lights, but I hadn't known she was coming and we'd got used to working in the gloom.

'I'm not lying.' I told him, resuming our earlier discussion.

'I respect that, Yui.' He turned to me and nodded gravely. 'But I still think you should travel.' There was a brief pause. 'You really don't think of getting married? 'Cause I never did either and then came the war and now… Now, I keep wondering if I'll die alone.'

Morimoto continued looking through the glass door as if the phantom he'd seen might return at any moment. 'So that's Tanaka Sachiko*…'

And I could feel an idea being born.

* * *

I rarely saw Junko at any other time other than in the mornings for she retired early and, when I got home in the evenings, she was already gone. Yet that night it was she who received me, with an even sourer look than usual, and led me not to the living room, but to her own bedroom.

That room had always been off limits to me, or at least that's what it'd always felt like, so I'd never been in it. It was more spacious than mine and Sachiko's bedrooms; the corner closest to the door seemed to have been converted into a sort of study area with a rectangular _chabudai_ standing in front of a dark wooden bookshelf. It was at that table that Junko bid me sit and I obliged, watching somewhat warily as she took a seat across from me.

She stared at me impassively. Her grey hair pulled back in its usual impeccable bun and her hands folded inside the wide sleeves of her _kimono_. I waited for her to talk though her glare seemed to be aimed at making me fold and spill my guts to her. Now, that I knew what it felt like to be stared down by my own eyes, I realised I should be more careful not to frighten or intimidate people unintentionally, for it was suddenly clear I must have done so many times before.

'Where were you last night?' Junko raised her head high. She was a small woman yet she knew how to stare someone down.

'I worked late so I stayed in the shop.'

Her cold gaze narrowed at me, but I managed to remain perfectly calm and motionless. I'd been trained to withstand the most violent methods of interrogation and that wasn't the kind of training one could easily forget. 'Did it not cross your mind to inform us?'

That question did take me off guard, but I was quick to recover. 'I've never had to report back to anyone on trifle matters. It didn't even cross my mind. I apologize.' I made a short bow and that seemed to take the edge off her piercing gaze. It was my turn to strike. 'I've been meaning to talk to you.'

Junko's eyes widened a fraction. I'd never really conversed with her before, at least not at length. My social skills had somewhat improved in that last decade, yet I still rarely started a conversation, especially with that old woman with whom I seemed to have so little in common, aside from cold calculating eyes. She motioned for me to speak.

'I cannot get married.' I stated with absolute conviction, and her face twisted in obvious annoyance. Her eyes urged me to continue. 'Not while Sachiko remains single. It wouldn't be right.'

'Sachiko cannot marry. It is her duty to remain here and look after me.'

'My wife will look after you. As my mother should have. And I'm sure Sachiko's husband will allow her to stay here until everything is arranged.'

She looked suspicious of me, and I could not blame her. When she'd told me I'd be meeting my bride on Monday I'd posed no objection – I'd not agreed either though my silence must have told her otherwise – yet now I came with that nonsense about Sachiko for whom I'd never appeared to care much before. Yes, it _was_ suspicious, but my interest was authentic, despite the business like tone of our chat, and Junko could see it.

'Find Sachiko a husband.' I told her. 'Just as you've found me a bride.'

'It is not so easy.' She finally broke the stare and removed her hands from her sleeves to light herself a cigarette. I'd never seen her smoke before, but the ashtray on the table between us and the lingering smell of tobacco in the room betrayed the habit. 'Sachiko's a woman and she's too old for marriage.'

'I might have a suitor if you were willing to lower your standards.'

Her eyes narrowed briefly at me, but she said nothing for we both knew I spoke the truth. She was too demanding. 'Very well.' The cigarette was crushed against the ashtray. 'I leave Sachiko's fate in your hands then. It shall be good practice for when you become head of this family.'

'And you'll postpone my Monday meeting.' It was in fact more of a question than anything else and I awaited for the answer, trying to ignore the heavy implications of her last statement.

'For the time being.' She nodded her agreement.

'There is one more thing. I've a few free weeks coming up and I may be travelling for a couple of them.' I stood up. 'I am not asking for permission, but I thought you should know.'

The mouth she had opened to forbid me – or so I assumed – closed again and I could see the muscles moving under her papery skin as her jaw tightened. She allowed me that small victory and waved me away.

I bowed and left before she could change her mind.

* * *

I had acted on instinct and impulse many times in my life, but this was the first time I felt I had no idea what I was doing. I was meddling in Sachiko's and Morimoto's lives, just the way Junko was meddling in mine. All based on a hunch. All to save my own skin. And I had set that plan in motion without consulting any of the other parties, because I'd been cornered and that wasn't something I had been prepared for. So now I had to try and convince them or – worse than getting married to a complete stranger – I'd have to admit failure and submit to Junko.

Sachiko always visited the _butsudan_ before going to bed just as she did every morning. She lit an incense, rang the bell and bid her sister goodnight. I usually heard that ritual from my bedroom, which was adjacent to the altar's room, yet that night I watched it in person. I stood at the door to give Sachiko privacy while I waited to ask for her help with my clumsy scheme.

When she was done with her prayers she turned to me with a smile and I crossed the _tatami_ to stand beside her in front of Aoi's portrait. 'Have you come to pay homage?'

I never had, because I didn't remember my mother and so it did not feel right. Now, after ten years, it was no longer so much the feeling of inadequacy, but the fact that I didn't believe in spirits. ' _Iie_.'

'It's alright.' She said, turning her smile to Aoi. 'I always ask her to look after you.'

'Then perhaps you could ask her to get me out of this mess.'

'Is this about the wedding?'

' _Un_.' I nodded. 'If I said you could help me, would you?' She looked up at me with wide eyes and knitted eyebrows. Sachiko had always remained neutral in all aspects of her life, always clinging to everyone's good sides, and I feared she might refuse to assist me. My whole plan, however, rested on hers and Morimoto's cooperation and so I had to convince her somehow. 'Junko's already agreed to my idea so she won't be mad if you play along.'

Her eyes slid back to her sister's for a moment, as if seeking her permission or hoping _she_ would intervene. 'What will I have to do?'

'I told Junko I couldn't get married while you remained single and promised to find you a husband.'

'She… She agreed?' Sachiko sounded horrified which was certainly not what I'd expected, considering her fears of dying alone.

' _Hai_.' She looked about to protest. I saw my plan collapsing around me, but I rushed to save it anyway. It was all I had to hold on to. 'You need only pretend. Both of you. Besides it is only temporary. I'll be gone for a couple of weeks and I promise you, by the time I come back, I'll have a better idea.'

 _Or I'll have accepted my fate._ I added for my own sake because I feared that – ultimately – that was exactly what I'd have to do. Sachiko was staring at Aoi's portrait again, but now she looked resigned. 'I'll help.'

I bowed to her and, on a certain level, also to my mother for I felt I owed her for this. 'If it is okay with you, I'll ask Morimoto- _san_ to phone you so you can agree on how best to look…involved.'

'Morimoto- _san_ your boss? The man in the shadows? Phone me?' she touched her flushing cheeks as if she hadn't talked to him on the phone before. I guessed things were different when you put a face – however obscure – to the voice, but I hadn't the time to dwell. I still hadn't talked to Morimoto and was taking his assistance for granted when he might outright refuse me. Yet it had been _his_ interest on my mysterious aunt's silhouette, which had set the entire plan in motion, so I doubted he'd be averse to it.

'When are you leaving? When will you return?' Sachiko was back to her senses and already looking forward to the end of our farce.

 _Before you change your mind._ I thought. _Or as soon as I figure out where to go._ Though in truth I knew there were only a few places where I could effectively go. 'As soon as possible.'

* * *

' _Gokurousama!_ ' Morimoto handed me a jacket and a mug of hot cocoa, his favourite hot beverage. I had managed to work myself into a sweat giving the finishing touches then polishing the adapted Leo, but now we were done and I would soon start feeling cold. I shrugged into the jacket and sipped my drink while Morimoto sat down and admired our work. 'I don't think they'll be back for it before the snow melts.'

'Hn.'

'I've decided to close the shop for a month. A _month_ , Yui. So don't you dare show your face here during that time. Don't force me to confiscate your keys.'

'I won't.' I assured him. 'I've decided to travel after all. I leave tomorrow.'

'Ah, good, good. Where will you be going?'

'Initially to Tokyo and then... Wherever I decide to go.'

'Eh? You don't know?' he burst into a fit of laughter. 'It's good to be young, _ne_? Without a care in the world… Just following your heart on the spur of the moment.'

I frowned at him. Had he forgotten our little chat the previous day already?

'Not so careless, actually. In fact, I need your help. Otherwise, I cannot go.'

' _My_ help?'

' _Un._ '

'Well… That's really rather flattering. I don't think – in all these years – that you have ever asked me for help.'

'Is that a yes? I'll make it up to you when I return.'

 _Somehow._

'Mmm… What exactly would that help entail?'

'You remember my aunt, Tanaka Sachiko*.'

' _Un_. The one who was here yesterday.'

' _Hai_.' I waited for him to add more to it, but he already seemed to be lost in thought. Hopefully, in memories of the mysterious woman he'd seen the day before. 'I need you to pretend to be courting her.'

'Courting?' Morimoto asked dully as if he had no idea what the word meant.

'Only for a couple of weeks. Until I get back. She's already agreed and is waiting for you to call her to arrange the details. I leave your part entirely to you.'

'Court your aunt? _Ii._ '

'You don't need to court her for real. She's aware of the plan.'

'I understand. But what plan is this you're making?'

'That's just to buy myself some time until I can come up with a better way of escaping this arranged marriage.'

'Ah… So that's what this is all about.' He looked thoughtful. 'You think it'll be worth the trouble? You might have ended up liking your _baa-san_ 's choice.'

'If it comes to that then I hope I will.'

Until then I'd fight.

Now, in retrospective, it does seem like a lot of work to avoid a fate that may not have turned out so bad. Yet back then I was determined, resolute and unbending. I couldn't give in to Junko's wishes and I couldn't marry any of the girls she had picked for me and that was all I knew. In fact, I wanted to make sure I didn't even meet any of them. I didn't have the stomach for it.

Morimoto sighed. 'I'll help. I'll help. You can count on me.'

I bowed, bending my body at the waist to show him just how much his assistance was appreciated. ' _Yoroshiku onegaishimasu_.'

He waved my courteous formalities aside with a hand gesture. 'Now, sit down and tell me about your aunt Sachiko. Tell me all you know, eh?'

It was clear he was genuinely interested and yet I felt like the whole situation only grew more and more ridiculous… I couldn't help but wonder how I'd ended up there and what had happened to Heero Yui.

* * *

Wischard laughed at the absurdity of my situation.

He was older than me, yet not as old as Morimoto, and he was happily married so I'd decided to visit him. I'd feared, for a moment, he and his wife might have moved out, then I'd wondered if I'd be welcome after such an awfully long time, but all of those doubts had been erased within moments of my arrival. And, now, as we sat at the porch and let the winter sun make a feeble attempt at warming us, it felt as if no time at all had passed.

'What a mess you've made.' He shook his head still smiling.

'Junko caught me off guard.' I admitted sourly then turned on him. 'What would _you_ have done?'

'Mmm… I guess I'd have waited to see how things unfolded. I might like the girl once I met her and, if I didn't, I'd ask to meet the next one on the list.' He shrugged, however thoughtfully. 'Some people – and I've the impression many Japanese people are included in that group – believe that love is something to be constructed with time and hard work and that marriage is just the first step. It's nothing but a contract, a formal compromise towards building that love.'

A bicycle sped down the road towards the town's centre, but aside from that the entire world seemed to be still. In Japan, I'd felt like I was running against time. Little more than a week had passed since Junko's announcement that she'd be marrying me off and yet it'd felt like an eternity. Here, on the other hand, it felt like time had stopped completely. Wischard was right and his hypothetical approach to the situation was much more reasonable than mine had been. Why had I been so desperate to check Junko's plans?

'I panicked.' I realised with no small amount of horror and confusion.

'A perfectly human reaction.'

'I'd have never reacted like this before.'

'You've aged. You've changed. You've built something for yourself, a life, and you've a family now. Any change is scary when you risk losing something. And here you're weighing your freedom against your grandmother's approval.'

'Hn.'

'Still… Why do you think you were so desperate to avoid this marriage?'

'I was just asking myself that.'

Wischard nodded. 'Regardless, we'll think of something. A way for you to turn down your grandmother without getting kicked out of the family.'

I could see one corner of his mouth twitch upwards. He still thought it amusing that I should find myself in the middle of such an unbecoming shambles. I was trying to figure that one out myself.

'Perhaps my mistake was believing that things could remain the same forever. That, just because there's peace now, nothing would ever change again.'

'Perhaps.' Wischard shivered and trust his hands into his pockets. The sun wasn't strong enough to ward off the cold that hung in the air. 'But are you really so satisfied with your current life that you'd never wish to change?'

'Yes.' I said and I did believe my words, for what else could there be? 'This is what life's supposed to be like.'

'Is it?'

'We're at peace.'

'Yes, we are, but there can be excitement in peace.'

'If it's the kind I had this past week then I'd rather go without.'

Wischard found that funny for some reason. 'Don't you think it's similar to the kind of excitement we experienced during the war? The threat, the uncertainty… As if you were running against time, trying to stop a bomb going off.'

'I did that once. This felt worse, much worse.' I wondered if that was because I had changed or because the situation was unfamiliar to me. I'd been thoroughly trained to fight under pressure, to think fast, to disarm bombs, yet no one had taught me to preserve relationships when you had to go against the other party's wishes. 'Don't you ever miss it?'

'The war? I used to miss it when I was in L1, though I think I've already told you that… No, I haven't missed it since I came back home.'

'I wished I could say the same.'

'You miss the war… Yet you claim to be satisfied with your life?' I frowned. My friend had talked me into a trap or maybe I'd done the ensnaring myself. Either way there was nothing I could say to that. 'You may not be conscious of it, but deep down you know there are better things out there. An even better life.'

'I thought I was home already.' I felt tired suddenly. Had I come so far only to waste ten years _pretending_ I belonged? Was I being forced into yet another journey in search of a home I'd no idea where to find?

'Who knows where _home_ is?'

'It's where the heart is, of course.' Wischard's wife surprised us as she stepped out into the porch. She was an energic woman with an easy smile and a very short temper underneath. Yet, as hard as I'd seen her hit my friend with her wooden spoons and tea towels, I'd never heard him complain. In fact, whenever she frowned in annoyance, Wischard would smile. It was a mystery. 'Lunch is served.' She informed us and stepped back into the house.

'Seems you were looking for the wrong thing all along.' My friend quipped, pushing himself to his feet and straightening his prosthetic leg. 'Maybe that's why you haven't found it?'

Wischard didn't expect an answer, nor did I give him one, but the truth was I saw reason in what he'd just said, despite the playful tone he'd used. I would never know where I belonged unless I knew who I was and what I wanted.

I had to find my heart first.

* * *

Because Wischard had fought to protect the planet, the ESUN now paid him a pension of sorts, a compensation for his lost leg, but the money was hardly enough to sustain them; so his wife had kept her job as a secretary to a local doctor, and he had started working as a carpenter in a little shed he'd built behind the house. He did good work, however simple his craftsmanship was, and, being his own boss, he wrote his own roster. It was enough, he told me, though I had the feeling things had not always been easy for him and his wife in the last ten years.

'Maybe if you do get married you can furnish your new house with my work.' He smirked at me before disappearing behind the chairs which piled on the table between us.

'Sorry to disappoint you, but, even if I do, I'll have to continue living with my grandmother. My will-be-wife's already entitled to look after her.'

'I thought she was entitled to turning you into a farmer.'

'That too.'

'Can't imagine a woman who'd agree to all that so easily.'

'There's much more involved.'

'Like making your family renowned again.'

'Hn.'

I was circling the square table where my friend worked. It was covered in sawdust and curling ribbons of wood. Chairs were stacked in the middle of it, occupying almost all of the space, yet a circular saw still found room for itself in one of the corners. That table alone took almost the entire space, leaving only enough room for one man to circle it. Most of Wischard's tools had been stocked on the shelves that hung on three of the four walls.

'Is lack of money the reason why you haven't had children?' I asked when my friend was again in my view. His wife had been going on incessantly about their nephew the last couple of days and I could not help noticing that, despite her obvious desires, they remained childless. It was an intimate, awkward question, yet I felt I had the obligation to ask it just as Wischard asked hard questions of me.

'No. That's not it.' He ran a hand over the slashed table top, gathering the sawdust. 'I know we're at peace right now, but how long will it last? I just don't want my hypothetical children going through what I had to go through.'

'Does your wife have any say in that decision?'

'Of course she does.' Wischard took umbrage, but his anger wasn't one to last. 'She's less resolute and more easily shaken, as you've clearly noticed, but she agrees with me.'

'Why get married, Wischard?' I asked with a frown that I hoped transmitted all of my perplexity. 'Why chain yourself to another?'

' _Chain_?' he seemed amused by my choice of word. 'As in heavy rusty cumbersome metal chains?' My frown deepened and I could only shake my head at his charade. 'I fell in love.' He said. 'We think and feel alike so she doesn't restrict me, doesn't diminish my life in anyway, and I wanted her to share in all that I had, all that I possessed, which may not be much for two but certainly would've been for one. To you it may seem like crippling binding chains, while your grandmother views it as a business deal, but to me...' He shrugged and I took it that was his way of saying it all depended on one's personal opinion and experience. 'Perhaps you should tell your grandmother the truth? Tell her how you feel, what you think, what you want… If she kicks you out, you can always come here. We'll always welcome you.'

The scowl I'd been wearing melted away and I had to hold back a sigh. 'I don't know the answer to any of those questions. I've changed without noticing, changed without doing a thing and now I no longer know who I am.'

'Do any of us? Ever?' Wischard reached for a plank and turned it over in front of his eyes, studying it. There were carefully organized piles of lumber and logs and other types of wood all around the shed, restraining the space even further. 'Will you be visiting anyone else?'

I'd considered it and I felt I did owe Relena a visit, though I wasn't sure I was ready for it. I wasn't sure what to do or say… I'd been gone for ten years and accomplished nothing. 'I don't want them to meet the current me.'

Wischard wasn't quite as surprised at my words as I was, yet the moment I spoke them I knew them to be true. I'd become a compliant, emotional, pathetic man and I'd been respected once, even feared and admired.

'You're human now.' He said simply. 'I hated myself when I stopped being a soldier, a commander, a lieutenant and became an ordinary human too. I almost didn't come back home. But you already know that story.'

'Yes.' But he'd been human once, before the war. The fact that he had loved and married were proof enough.

I hadn't.

As far as I could remember I'd always been a soldier and not just any soldier, but the perfect one.

'You're not a bad man, Heero. Besides, your teammates must be going or must have gone through the same thing. They won't judge you.'

'You do not know them.'

In fact, neither did I. Not _really_.

'True.' Wischard conceded effortlessly. 'Yet from what you've told me about them, about the now Foreign Minister Darlian especially, I can tell you you've naught to worry about. You should at least visit _her_ then. She's a woman and your friend. If you decide not to tell your grandmother the truth then maybe Ms. Darlian could help you?'

 _Relena's help?_ I wondered. _To do what? How could she possibly help me? And would she even want to?_

It _had_ been ten years… Not that I'd forgotten about her. I still kept track of her and her career, but I tried not to think about her as more than a celebrity I'd once happened to know. Someone far away from me. Time had passed, things had changed, _I_ had changed and surely Relena had changed as well.

My friend placed the plank within reach of the saw, supporting it with one gloved hand and forearm while steadying it with the other. 'Don't you wish to see her?' he asked pulling on a pair of transparent goggles.

He turned on the saw by stepping on a pedal under the table and the roar of its engine filled the tiny hut. Wischard led the board through the blade, transforming a plank into the leg of a future chair. Or so I assumed. It was amidst the noise of the wood being cut that I realised I knew at least one thing I wanted.

And that seemed like a good enough place to start.

* * *

I didn't tell Relena I was coming. I didn't tell anyone.

A large part of me wanted to see her, yet an even larger part wished she wouldn't see me. It might seem controversial, but I knew it could be done. I could watch her from afar, see her without being seen. It would be enough to let me know if she was alright, and that was all I needed to know. The only problem with my plan was that it wouldn't abate the feeling of owing her a visit. If she wasn't aware I'd been there at all…

I checked into a hotel near the foreign ministry building where I knew she still worked, however in a different office. I slept on my idea, yet by morning I'd still not reached any decision. Fate, on the other hand, had decided to make one for me, and so it was that – as I strolled around the ministry building's block – I ran into none other than Chang, Wufei.

'Yui?' He called and I turned completely out of habit and without thinking.

He'd always been taller than me and not even a decade had seen fit to change that. If anything, the difference had increased. His hair was slightly longer though he still wore it tied at the nape of his neck. Overall, he looked thinner, paler and more mature. He no longer sported the air of superiority we'd so associated with him in youth, but appeared to be a confident and strict man as we stared at each other. Me aghast and he surprised, maybe even a little curious.

'Chang.'

'Are you going in?' he had just exited the building where Relena worked, so it wasn't hard to follow his logic though the question was unnecessary. I was already walking past the building and there was no way he had not noticed that.

'No.'

His narrowed eyes pierced me with suspicion. 'Does she know you're here?'

'No.'

'I thought so.' Chang had always sounded somewhat condemning, and I prepared to be questioned or chastised or something equally annoying, yet he merely stared at me for what felt like an eternity. People passed us by, heedlessly, going on about their lives. 'A cup of coffee?' he asked at last, as if daring me to decline.

There were many small restaurants and French style cafés across the street, as well as the occasional shop. The ministry edifice wasn't just an old building, but a touristic sight, a monument people visited for the simple pleasure of it and the local commerce prospered from it. We crossed the avenue as soon as the traffic thinned, before the light turned green for us, and Chang led me into the first café we came across.

It was mid-morning on a wintry week day and the place was near empty, so we took our pick of the tiny dark-wooden tables and watched the world outside as we waited to place our orders and then to be served. None of us seemed eager to speak though we knew we must. We were more than mere acquaintances, though not as close as friends, and we'd never really been on good terms with each other. Yet a decade had passed and, somehow, it didn't feel right for us to just walk by each other and go our own ways. It was, however, clearly what we would both have liked to do.

'I see you still work for Preventers.' I nodded at his uniform jacket.

'So I do… And you don't.'

'No, I don't.'

'We could have used you. More than once. Yet you were nowhere to be found.'

'You would have found me had you tried hard enough.' I retorted just as coldly, and because Chang knew I spoke the truth his reproachful tone lost a little of its edge.

'Preventers has more important things to do with its funds than search for the blind and selfish. We – together with the foreign ministry and its associates – are not only working towards, but very near the colonization of Mars.'

'I don't see how I could have helped you with that.' I said knowing very well that was not what he had meant. My help may have been needed, but to other divisions of the organisation. It wasn't my intention to provoke him, but I was angry at myself and frustrated, and that unnecessary encounter had unsettled me.

Chang frowned at me for a moment then sipped his coffee. 'We're arriving at a new era, Yui.' He said as if to show me just how petty I'd become. But then he allowed himself a moment of pettiness as well. 'An era which will probably be dominated by women.'

My anger abated at the sight of his anxiety and I sipped my own coffee. 'You're the one who's blind, Chang. They dominate already.'

He took no offense. I assumed because he knew I was right. 'Catalonia means to run for president. Can you believe it?' he snorted.

'She always was a ruthless woman.'

'She's dangerous that _woman_. The most capricious of them all.'

I shrugged dismissively. 'Relena's given her a change of heart.'

We were silent for some time. Two more tables had people at them, businessmen in suits and a couple, probably in a business meeting themselves, but aside from hushed conversation all we could hear was the clinking of china and the traffic outside. 'You've always thought highly of her.' Chang said suddenly, meaning Relena. 'Are you not going to see her?'

'I don't know.' I confessed, and he made no comment. 'How…is she?'

'Busy. She's been busy ever since Treize's daughter.'

'But she's well.'

'She's well.' He confirmed and, when I gave a simple nod, he let the matter drop. 'How long will you be staying?'

'Another week.'

'We should meet again.'

 _What for?_ I wondered, but Chang seemed to have picked up on my train of thought.

'In honour of the old times and of our former teammates.'

'You kept in touch with them?' I didn't bother to hide my surprise.

'For the sake of Preventers.' He clearly planned to end it at that, yet when he met my eye he decided to elaborate. 'Maxwell's still in the scrap metal business with that girl we rescued back at the Peacemillion.'

'Hilde.'

'Yes. I didn't know you'd bothered to learn her name.'

'Barton still works at the circus though I hear he's gotten involved in the mobile suit development business lately. He and Winner help us at Preventers when necessary, though in different ways. Yet I hear Winner has started working in MS development himself…' I remembered hearing about Quatre on the television once or twice in the last ten years, but it had all been related to his family's business and never to the man himself. Chang leaned back on his chair as he finished. 'I work. Nothing more.'

'Never thought of getting married?' I was curious about his answer, though that was due to my own situation and not for whatever weird reasons he might have imagined. I could see I'd taken him by surprise, for he stared at me as if I'd suddenly sprouted wings and, for a fraction of a second, I feared he might fall off his chair. He made a quick recover though.

'Why chain yourself to another? What purpose would that serve?'

'That's what I thought.' I mumbled cryptically enough and let Chang stare perplexed at me while I finished my coffee.

The waitress brought our checks and gathered the dishes. A sign that our uncomfortable meeting was coming to its inevitable end. We stood, our chairs screeching lightly against the linoleum. 'Are you coming back?'

I knew what Chang meant. He was asking if I'd disappear again, so I gave him the only answer I could. The honest answer. 'I don't know.'

He nodded and I knew – despite our differences – he understood how I felt. 'I think she'd make time for you.' He told me as I crossed the door before him. 'She's been waiting, Yui.'

 _I'd feared as much._

Chang didn't wait for an answer as he walked down the street and away from me. I looked up at the ministry building with its Roman styled columns and arches and I knew I had to go inside and see her.

I hadn't asked Relena to wait for me, but I'd always had the feeling she would anyway. Truth was I wasn't entirely sure why she waited for me. What did she expect me to do? Not that any of it mattered, of course. What I had to do was make sure she moved on, make sure she was happy and strong to uphold the peace she'd fought so hard for.

My own ordinary life and ridiculous dilemma looked so small in comparison to hers and Chang's and the others'. And I wasn't sure yet if that was really what I wanted – an ordinary life – still I'd put it all aside. The whole reason for my trip. I'd forget all about it so I could have a small part in ensuring the perpetuity of that which we'd all battled for and the completion of my friends' project.

Suddenly, I had a mission again and with it came the comforting sense of belonging.

* * *

GLOSSARY

 **Culture and Architecture**

 _Kotatsu:_ a low table adapted with a duvet and a heat source underneath

 _Butsudan:_ small indoors buddhist altar for prayer and honouring the dead

 _Kimono_ : traditional Japanese garment (robe with a sash - the _obi_ )

 _Geta_ : wooden Japanese sandals

 _Chabudai_ : traditional low Japanese table

 _Tatami:_ woven straw used as matts for floor covering

 **Language**

 _Hiiro =_ Japanese pronunciation of Heero

 _Hai =_ yes

- _kun =_ used for boys one's own age or younger

- _san =_ equivalent of Mr/Mrs/Miss

 _Iie =_ no

 _Yome =_ bride

 _Gaijin =_ foreigner

 _Hahaue =_ Mother (very respectable)

 _Chichiue =_ Father (very respectable)

 _Gomenasai =_ Sorry ( _Gomen_ is a contraction of it)

 _'Un' =_ a grunted 'yes' like our 'Mmm'

 _ne? =_ at the end of a phrase, prompting someone to agree with you like 'right?'

 _'Gokurosama' = '_ thank you for your hard work'

 _Ii =_ good/fine

 _Baa-san =_ grandma, usually starting with 'O' - 'obaa-san' because it's more polite and respectful

 _'Yoroshiku onegaishimasu' =_ 'I look forward to working with you'/'I'll be counting on you'/'please take care of it'/'please look after it'/'please look after me' - there are many interpretations depending on the context, a very special and unique expression, practically impossible to translate accurately.


	4. Kokoro

_**Chapter IV**_

 _ **Kokoro (Heart)**_

I stepped out of the elevator and into the spacious reception room. Relena's secretary – whose name I had never bothered to learn – sat behind a heavy mahogany desk. 'On the cabinet, please. Envelopes to the right, packages to the left.' She waved me towards another ancient piece of furniture, which rested against the wall to the left. At the lobby, I had told security I had a delivery from Ms. Catalonia and they had clearly already informed the secretary for she did not spare me a single glance.

'Actually, I'm here to see the minister.'

She had not heard me approach and my sudden proximity seemed to take her aback. 'Do you have an appointment?' she fumbled with the papers on her desk, searching for her daily planner instead of holding my gaze.

'No. I don't have an appointment.'

'Well, in _that_ case…' she peeked up at me and faltered. I suspected she meant to send me on my merry way, but her wariness of me had given her pause and made her reconsider her words. 'I'm sorry, sir, but the minister is very busy at the moment and isn't seeing anyone.'

'I understand.' I said meekly. I had lied to security and now I was asking to see Relena. I wasn't dressed to see an authority and I knew I didn't have the most charming of personalities, so I had to find a way to soothe the frightened secretary before she pressed the panic button I could see her caressing under the desktop. 'I'm an old friend and I won't be in the city for long.'

The woman blinked at me, still uncertain, yet my attempt at appeasement appeared to have succeeded for the tension slowly drained from her skinny shoulders. 'I'm sorry, sir, but the minister really isn't seeing anyone right now… Would you like to leave her a message? All messages will be delivered to her at lunch time.'

'Very well.' It was already past eleven so I figured it could not be long till lunch time. I raised my hand to stop her as she pushed a notepad and a pen towards me. 'Just tell her Heero Yui came to see her and that I'll be back later.'

'Heero Yui?'

'Yes.'

'You're _Heero Yui_?'

I frowned, unsure of what she meant. Something inside her head seemed to have broken for her fear vanished entirely and, instead of avoiding my gaze, she gaped up at me until I gave her an answer. 'That _is_ my name.'

'I'm sorry, Mr. Yui. I should have asked you from the start.' The secretary pushed herself up. 'If you'd, please, follow me. The minister will see you right away.'

It was my turn to gape though I was much quicker to recover. Chang had said she'd been waiting for me, but I'd never thought she'd have instructed her secretary as to my eventual return. The woman had clearly believed – after ten years – that the mysterious man her boss awaited would never appear. I dare say, were I in her shoes, I'd have felt much the same way.

She led me past her desk to a door on the right and from there into a wide carpeted corridor. We halted in front of the furthermost door and she knocked, gesturing for me to wait outside as she slipped in without waiting for an answer.

The wait wasn't long, yet it did seem so for suddenly I realised I had no idea what I'd say to Relena and what I wouldn't. I had decided not to bring my problems to her, but I should have gone back to the hotel once I'd made up my mind to meet her and thought things through before acting. Instead, I'd been impulsive and, as I stared at the impeccably painted white door of her office, all I had up my sleeves were a racing heart and a blank mind.

It was too late to turn back.

The secretary returned. 'You may go in.' she nodded respectfully.

I nodded my thanks as I stepped past her.

And then I walked in.

* * *

Relena was suddenly right in front of me, leaning back against her desk, wearing that same enigmatic smile she had bestowed on me so many years before, when Quatre and I had first landed on Sanc. It might seem like nothing had changed, yet at the same time I could see she was no longer a girl… I had never really seen her as one. To me she had always been mature, a force to be reckoned with, but a girl she had been nonetheless. Now, she was a woman.

She still wore her hair long and loose, though her face had grown delicate and her eyes sharper under her light makeup. The _tailleur_ she wore was the same light pink she'd always favoured, but her body filled the greyish shirt she wore underneath it in ways it never had before, and not even the dark blue scarf that fell softly against her chest could hide it. Her hands, refined and long fingered, held on to the edge of the desktop to her sides, and just by looking at her I knew I need not have worried about what to say because she knew.

She always did.

'Took your sweet time, didn't you, Heero?' there was amusement in her eyes, but also a touch of relief.

I nodded, briefly clearing my throat. 'I apologize.'

It seemed to me tears welled up in her eyes then, but I could not be certain. She pushed against the desk and crossed the distance between us so fast I had time to neither think nor react. Her arms wrapped around me, pulling me tight against her. I wasn't used to being touched, least of all hugged, yet instinct had my arms encircling her. I don't think I'd ever been so aware of another as I was of Relena at that very moment. I could feel her chest against mine, the warmth of her back against my forearm, the firm curve of her waist under my hand, her ghosting breath on the nape of my neck… And deep inside me something stirred and burned to life.

'Your security is lax.' I said as soon as she stepped away, burying those confounding feelings as quickly as they'd emerged.

She made her way back to her desk and leaned over it to reach her purse. 'We're at peace.'

'We were at peace when Mariemaia kidnapped you.'

At that, Relena gave me a long look which shifted before I could make sense of it. She held her purse in front of her. 'Will you have lunch with me? I know it's still early, but I don't want us to be disturbed and, if we remain here, I know we will be.'

I nodded acquiescence, for there was little else I could think to do, and stepped aside so she could precede me. 'Besides,' she resumed as she walked past me, smiling once again. 'I desperately need some fresh air.'

* * *

As we traipsed through the swiftly crowding streets around the ministry, Relena told me a little about the building and the city. The history behind them and the significance of the architectural and structural details that had turned that avenue into a touristic attraction, a mark of the ESUN and of all the hopes of a post-war world laid on it.

Not as many people stopped her on the streets as I had expected, most of them lagging tourists who happened to recognise her. Co-workers, on their own way to or from lunch, greeted her with brief nods, surprised smiles or distant waves while most of the passers-by were in too much of a hurry or too caught in their own thoughts to properly notice us.

We walked past the café I had been in earlier and many other small businesses and establishments, until we reached a discreet, albeit fancy, bistro some three blocks away from the ministry. The staff already knew her and, within moments, we were rid of our coats and sitting at one of the corner tables from which we had a view of the street and were subtly separated from the rest of the customers by a piano. Relena valued her privacy and they knew it.

'I've had trouble with _paparazzi_ before…' she explained her choice of seat as I read through the menu. 'Though I haven't been in the spotlight for a while.' I knew she hadn't. I remembered seeing her on the television only a handful of times in the last ten years and that also explained why so few people had recognised her on our way there. 'Still, from time to time, minor rumours come out. Dorothy usually calls in to share them with me. Some are quite absurd and she finds them – in her own words – "exceedingly entertaining".'

I couldn't help but recall the rumours that had gone on about myself in recent years and let out an amused chuckle both at their ludicrousness and at the fact that, for once, I agreed with Catalonia. 'I've been the victim of preposterous rumours myself.' I explained, having seen the bewilderment on Relena's face.

The waiter came to take our orders then and, as I finished mine, I met Relena's eyes over the rim of the water glass she'd been sipping. I knew then she meant to question me further so I stepped in before she could. 'I hear you're helping colonize Mars?'

It was more of a statement than a question, but she seemed pleased at my interest. She smiled. 'It's Milliardo's project and work. I've aided him – mostly with the bureaucratic and legal matters – since I'm an official representative, but the credit's all his, really.'

'It hardly seems so to me.'

I saw her blink at me, surprised by my earnestness. Yet bureaucratic and legal matters seemed to me to be the trickiest, most boring part of any great enterprise, still – for better or worse – the paperwork was essential and I thought Zechs must have been more than grateful to her.

She tucked a rebellious strand of hair behind her ear. 'Preventers has been helping us too.'

'Chang.'

'Yes… I'm surprised you know.'

'I met him earlier coming out of your office.'

'Oh, so he's already filled you in.'

I snorted at that, realising just how little Chang had actually told me, and glanced out the window. The restaurant we were in was located on a side street, much calmer than the avenue that had been visible from the café's window, and I could see houses across from us, real homes lost in the midst of a commercial district. The large avenue had been calm at that time of morning, but now we could hear its buzzing even from afar.

'I wouldn't call it that.' I turned back to Relena. 'He did make it sound like you were close to its completion though and the start of a new era.'

'MC they intend to call it… Mars Century.' She paused when the waiter arrived with our meal and thanked him wholeheartedly as he left with a visible flush on his cheeks. 'Now that you put it that way, I guess we really _are_ very near its end.'

Relena sounded pleased and proud of what they had achieved. There hadn't been much talk about it, but there certainly would be once it was finished. Humans had been obsessed with Mars ever since they'd started exploring the outer space and to actually colonize it was a dream come true, not just for those who, like her, had worked so hard to achieve it, but for thousands of others as well.

'You should head straight back to work after this then.' I encouraged, freeing her of any obligation she might feel to keep me company when she had more pressing concerns in mind, yet instead of grateful she suddenly looked outraged.

'I haven't seen you in…'

'Ten.' I provided.

'Forever!' she said at the exact same time and grinned before shaking her head in disbelief. 'Where _have_ you been anyway? You told me you were going to L1, but that was all those years ago.'

I chewed slowly to buy myself time. Relena didn't seem angry, merely upset at what she thought was an implication that her work was more important to her than my visit. I knew it wasn't. I hadn't believed that for a second, but had only wanted to show her my support. The point of this entire visit – I'd decided after my brief encounter with Chang – was to know how she was doing and help wherever and however I could, to let her know she could still count on me. I had never meant it to become about myself, yet I should have known she would turn the tables on me. Now, the only way I could possibly appease her was to tell her about my life.

'I did go to L1. I wanted to find some clue as to who I was and where I came from.'

'And did you?'

'I did.'

'And…?' she prompted between forkfuls, sensing my reluctance. I wondered how far I needed to go in my story telling in order to sate her curiosity without creating openings for further questions.

'I returned to Earth, to Japan, where I've been living ever since.'

'In Japan?'

I couldn't place her tone and that gave me pause. Was she surprised? Confused? Horrified? 'I know it's not officially called that anymore, but people there have a strong emotional attachment to their past and tradition.'

She nodded. 'I've been to China, but never to Japan*… At least, not that I can recall. What were the names of its main cities? Tokyo? Kyoto?'

'Osaka, Nagoya, Yokohama.' I added with a nod.

'Do you live in any of them?'

'No. It's a small country village. You wouldn't know it.'

'I would like to.' She paused, clearly seeing the uncertainty on my face. I thought of Junko and of what an uncomfortable encounter that would be. Relena, though visibly discouraged by my silence, didn't lose heart. 'If you were willing to take me.'

I did not wish to explain to her all the reasons why she would rather not visit me so I simply nodded, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. Instead of insisting, once she stopped chewing, Relena surprised me by tactfully and respectfully changing the subject.

'So you're worried about my security.'

'It's basically inexistent.' I told her plainly, not bothering to hide how annoyed I felt. After all that had happened, I didn't understand how she could be so careless. 'I need only mention Catalonia and show them an ID and your lobby receptionist and security personnel let me in without batting an eye.'

Relena kept smiling and I couldn't tell if she was pleased by my concern or amused at my indignation. 'They're not as careless as they seem.' She reassured me. 'They've had training. True they weren't prepared to deal with someone of your league, but I doubt many Heero Yuis will come around my office.'

'The few that do might kidnap you.' I held her gaze. I was dead serious, and she finally seemed to accept it and give in for her smile melted with a sigh. 'I don't think you've enough security cameras either. There are too many blind spots on the way to your office. And the elevators should be operated by your staff so they can make certain visitors go where they said they would.'

'If you really think that many changes are necessary wouldn't you come back and work with me? As my head of security?' Relena tried to sound practical, businesslike, but I could hear the hopefulness behind her invitation.

When I'd started criticizing her security scheme I'd half-expected a proposal like that, yet I was still surprised by it, however slightly, and what surprised me most was the fact that I wanted to say yes. I wanted to sit with her for hours and make lists and reorganize her entire security plan, because I knew it would make me feel useful and important. There was no way I'd forget about my responsibilities in Japan though. I had people counting on me back there as well, even if they weren't the foreign minister.

'I cannot.' I informed her somewhat resentfully. 'I've other responsibilities to attend to.'

That was clearly not the answer she'd been expecting. I waited for her to speak, but she appeared to have frozen. Then her eyes widened a fraction, as if in sudden realisation, and her lips parted. 'Have…' she trailed off, thinking better of whatever she had meant to ask, and a strained smile took her face. There was something apologetic about it. 'Of course, you do. I didn't mean to imply otherwise. It was just a simple job offer.'

'I know.' I said and because her expression unsettled me so I also let the truth slip out. 'I wished I could take it.'

My sudden candidness took us both off guard, and I dare say Relena recovered from it faster than I did. She nodded understanding, but – though she no longer looked as dejected – her reaction still bothered me. I wanted to tell her everything then, to explain my reasons to her so it would not seem as if I were rejecting her, yet my visit had a purpose and in order to achieve it I had decided to leave my personal problems out of the equation. I was there to lighten her burden, not to add my own to it.

She met my gaze, and I suddenly realised I'd been unconsciously staring at her, following the lines on her face. I had to fight the urge to look away for I'd seen, underneath the light layer of makeup, bags under her eyes.

'Are…' the words failed me. One of the reasons I'd decided to meet her was to answer that very question and now, when I finally meant to ask it, I simply faltered. It was a lot harder to ask uncomfortable questions face-to-face than when there was a pile of chairs between you and your interlocutor. I wanted to give up, I was angry at myself, but Relena was waiting. 'Are you… happy?'

I could no longer hold her gaze, but focused instead on my napkin which I single-handedly and frustratedly twisted around my fingers.

'Happy?' she echoed as if the word eluded her, then unexpectedly threw the question back at me. 'Are _you_?'

And I realised I had no idea what it meant myself.

'I don't know.' I frowned, remembering Wischard's words. If being satisfied and being happy were synonyms, then… 'No. Probably not.'

There was surprise on her face at my answer, but also – strangely enough – relief. She seemed to notice my confusion at her reaction for her cheeks coloured lightly and she turned back to her plate, ashamed. It was nearly empty. So was mine.

Our lunch was coming to an end.

'I'll be returning to work after this, if you agree to dine with me tonight.' Relena changed the subject so smoothly it was almost imperceptible, yet the suddenness of it still caught me off guard. As I hesitated, she resumed. 'At my place. Nothing special. We'll have to include my mother. She lives with me now. _Has lived_ with me for some years, really. She was alone and I'm all she's left so… I couldn't refuse her.'

I would never have expected her to turn her mother away, but I wasn't sure I felt up to it. It promised to be an awkward dinner, even more awkward than our lunch had been. Or maybe not. Maybe her mother would break that alien tension which hung between us. And I guessed I owed Relena as much, since I seemed to have further upset her rather than help her.

'That's fine.' I nodded.

'Are you staying at a hotel?'

'Yes. Not far from the ministry.'

'Pagan usually picks me up at six. We'll stop by afterwards to pick you up.'

'I'll call your secretary with the address.'

A sombre atmosphere seemed to have taken over our meeting and we both welcomed the waitress who approached with one of those sweet trolleys, even though we declined her offer. I took that as a sign. A sign that neither of us was ready to prolong that lunch. We'd finally met, after ten years, and we'd talked and now there was too much on our minds.

I, for one, wondered how to go about improving Relena's life with my brief visit. I'd not had time to give my strategy any thought. For a moment, back in her office, it had felt like things were going to be easy, yet now that we'd spoken and I'd had a glimpse of the bigger picture I understood how naïve an assumption that had been.

It was all so ridiculously complicated.

She insisted on paying and, because I knew how stubborn she was and felt too tired and distracted to argue, I let her. I'd make it up to her before I left. And, once back in the street, she asked me about Japan. About its cities and its history and its monuments. I told her what little I knew. Her interest in history ran a lot deeper than mine, but I'd picked up enough facts in a decade to last through our stroll.

We parted at the building's lobby and, even though the smile had returned to her lips, I felt like promising her a trip to Japan only so it would reach her eyes again. But I refrained, and we went our own ways.

For the time being.

* * *

When I got to the hotel I was already convinced I needed a new approach on the situation.

Relena had been unwilling to share, had avoided talking about herself more successfully than _I_ had and had flipped my embarrassing questions back at me. In retrospective, I realised we'd never really talked about our personal lives, not now and not then. Me because, until the last ten years, I felt I didn't have any, and she… It was only an assumption, but I thought back then she must have believed she didn't need to. Her fathers – both Darlian and Peacecraft – had been public figures and their families' histories were easily accessible to anyone who might have an interest.

I couldn't convince her to share and be honest with me unless I shared my own life and was truthful with her myself. My journey with Wischard had taught me that, though I'd never given it any thought until that moment. By opening his life to me he had encouraged me to share my story with him.

We'd become friends.

The way things stood with Relena, I did not know _what_ we were to each other. Certainly not mere acquaintances, yet I wouldn't call us friends either. We were just like Chang and I. We trusted each other, but not completely. Business matters were on the table while personal matters were held close to our hearts.

And yet we cared about each other in a way Chang and I never had and never would. I'd come a long way just to see her, to make sure she was alright, and she had given me that hug… To remember it was to ache all over again. As if it was still happening. Never ending.

Our dinner was only a few hours away and I suddenly felt tired, like I hadn't felt since the end of the war. My personal problems, my unexpected meeting with Chang, my reencounter with Relena, our barely comfortable lunch… It all wearied me, weighed me down, so I decided to rest for a couple of hours and, as I closed my eyes, I saw her face. She was as tired and conflicted as I was, and I realised I would – after all – tell her about my life. I need not tell her about the arranged marriage – that was a matter I had to tend to myself and enough people had been dragged into it already – but I'd let her see the new Heero Yui. The human one. And I'd let her tell me what she thought of him.

* * *

I confess I had my doubts about Pagan. I was not sure how old he was, nor was I willing to ask, but he'd already been old when I'd first met Relena and the older one gets the more dangerous it is to drive. Our reflexes get slower and slower and yet we've been driving for so long, it's become so natural to us, we're overwhelmed with confidence and easily wounded by critique. I feared that – by keeping him in her employment so as not to hurt his feelings – Relena might be putting her own safety at risk.

And I was wrong.

Traffic was heavy at that hour so we made sluggish progress. Pagan, however, was patient and attentive even as he chatted with us about the weather and other local events which had taken place that week. Hiring a new driver – a stranger – would surely have exposed Relena to greater risks than keeping the old man. I was reassured by that thought, despite the fact that my concerns were still valid and real.

As we arrived at the house, though, I decided to keep my observations to myself, at least for the moment. I did not wish that dinner to progress in a similar manner as our lunch had earlier, but for us to grow comfortable around each other. Social occasions were hard enough on me as it was and I already had a bad feeling concerning Mrs. Darlian's presence. I had decided not to burden that night with any expectations, but merely to try and keep the atmosphere light. Only then would I cautiously proceed.

The house was big for two single women yet I was sure they had resided in bigger places throughout their lives so this could actually be seen as a step down. It had a porch, similar to the one in Wischard's house, though in a much more ostentatious way and, of course, once we stepped inside we did not find ourselves in the middle of a cramped living room, but in a wide spacious hall. Pagan took our coats and Relena's purse before excusing himself and we turned right, walking into the study where her mother awaited us.

Mrs. Darlian stood up as we entered. I could not remember if I'd seen her before. She was a tall, slim woman – much different than her daughter in that respect – though no one who did not know the truth would have ever suspected her not being Relena's biological mother. They had the same sharp look in their eyes, the same elegant posture and commanding presence. The older Darlian's light brown hair was, however, streaked with white adding an austerity to her character which contrasted fiercely with her daughter's vivacious one.

'Heero, this is my mother, Mareen Darlian. Mother, this is Heero Yui.' Relena introduced me with a wave and a smile.

'The gundam pilot.' Her mother nodded, examining me.

'Mrs. Darlian.' I returned her nod, relieved that there would be no handshaking or cheek-pecking involved, but that a large desk and a coffee table flanked by two couches stood between us.

'I have yet to thank you for the many times you saved Relena and for keeping her safe during the war.'

'There's no need to thank me. I was merely doing what I thought was right.'

'Nonetheless, I thank you. Not only as a supporter and defender of peace, but as a mother.' Her blue eyes shifted to her daughter who still stood beside me, listening quietly to our solemn exchange. 'I couldn't imagine the grief of living in a peaceful world without my daughter in it. It just would not be the same.'

I turned to Relena myself, trying to picture such a thing, yet I doubted we'd even be here if not for her. 'No, it certainly wouldn't.'

Our eyes met. I couldn't tell what she was thinking though part of me felt grateful she had omitted from her mother the fact that I'd also threatened – and even tried, however half-heartedly – to kill her myself. If she hadn't, I was quite sure we wouldn't be having this conversation at all.

'Should I ask for dinner to be served, Relena? Or would you like to wait?'

Relena turned to her mother for a second and then back to me. I simply shrugged, meaning it'd be fine with me either way. 'I think we should eat then.' She smiled at Mrs. Darlian. 'I'm starving.'

Her mother excused herself and left us. I watched the young minister pace around the room, browsing the bookshelves as if she did not already know the titles aligned there. She seemed happy, almost giddy, and – even though I didn't understand it – I felt pleased. A corner of my mouth curved upwards of its own volition and for no apparent reason.

'You told your mother about me.'

'Not everything.' She sent me a smug grin over her shoulder before turning to the ancient red covered tomes in front of her. 'You needn't worry. She won't tell anyone.'

I wasn't worried. Mrs. Darlian seemed to me to be exceedingly discreet as well as refined. As a politician's wife ought to be, I supposed.

Relena leaned against the brown leather couch, flipping her smile back to me. And I could see the fifteen year old girl, who had so liked to unsettle me, behind her sparkling eyes. My breath caught in my throat.

'Miss Relena. Master Yui.' Pagan walked in through the still open door. 'Sorry to disturb you, but dinner is served.'

'Thank you, Pagan.' She said gently and, crossing the distance between us, led me to the dining room by the arm.

Her mother was already there, waiting for us. She took the seat at the head of the table while Relena and I sat across each other at each of Mrs. Darlian's sides. The cook – a woman of about my own age – served us pumpkin soup and bread with the help of Pagan before they left us to ourselves. It seemed to me it wasn't only Junko who held on to ancient customs.

'So, Mr. Yui, what is it you do these days?' Mrs. Darlian was obviously in charge whenever she was present, even though the house technically belonged to her daughter. Relena was watching me curiously and I thought to myself she was much more interested in my answer than her mother was.

'I work as a mechanic at a repair shop.'

'Mobile suit repair?'

'Among other things.'

'Other things? Like cars? Motorcycles?'

'Agricultural machinery mostly. It's a rural area.'

'In Japan. Relena told me.'

'Yes.' I wondered how much Relena had told her. She had certainly called her mother during the afternoon to tell her I'd be coming over and then she'd clearly updated her as well. And now she sat quietly while Mrs. Darlian grilled me. She seemed to be enjoying herself.

'Last time I was there, with my late husband, neither of you had yet been born. I suppose it must have changed a lot since then...'

Both Pagan and the cook returned, with the main dishes this time, giving us all a moment to gather our thoughts. I feared the things I'd meant to tell Relena in private, details of my current life, would have to end up being spilled to her mercilessly questioning mother. I wondered if she'd be mad at me for telling Mrs. Darlian what I had apparently withheld from her, yet the truth was she hadn't asked. So perhaps this was for the better?

'You've been living there for a while.' It wasn't a question this time, but a plain statement. 'Have you people there?'

I met Relena's expecting gaze as I turned back to my plate. 'Yes.'

'Mmm.' They were both too gracious to pry. Perhaps not Relena, though her mother's presence inhibited her for the moment. She'd question me later if she wished. And I'd be truthful. 'I take it that means you won't be staying long.'

'No.'

'You've come for a visit?'

'I owed your daughter as much.'

Relena looked surprised even slightly horrified. Mrs. Darlian, on the other hand, understood the feeling or – an explanation I considered much more plausible – she did indeed believe, knowing our history, that I owed her daughter just as much as the two of them owed me for my good actions during the war. She nodded with no small amount of passion.

And it was then Relena, tired of sitting back and watching, took over the conversation. She had talked to Zechs that afternoon and it seemed everything was falling into place as their project neared its conclusion. It took her the remainder of our dinner, including dessert, to give us all the little details and answer all the questions posed by her mother. Most of those questions were clearly for my benefit alone so she could coax her daughter into showing me just how brilliant a politician she was.

I already knew.

However, it did not hurt to be reminded, especially since Relena spoke so excitedly about the project. She shared a few stories of the last ten years, but – as the work neared its end – even the stressful moments and unfortunate happenings brought a smile to her lips and pride to her eyes.

She looked genuinely satisfied and that image, combined with the happy Relena I'd seen earlier in the study, made me feel like I already had the answer to my question. The one she had refused to contemplate during our lunch. Perhaps she had feared to wound me with the plain reality that I was no longer needed? Yet somehow I did not feel wounded, I felt only warmth and the desire to stay a little longer under the radiance of her smile.

* * *

'I don't want you to feel like you owe me anything.' Relena told me once her mother had retired and the staff been dismissed for the night.

We – as opposed to our previous meeting – were reluctant to part and so we'd retreated to the study where I took a seat on the leather couch and even accepted a dose of whisky, hoping that it hadn't been Mrs. Darlian's presence alone which had made our gathering pleasant. I wasn't big on drinking and, as far as I could tell, neither was Relena. The liquor had comforted her father once, now it would comfort us.

'I'm not the only one who feels that way. None of us would be here today if not for you.'

She shook her head still standing by the cupboard. 'You exaggerate. When it comes down to it I did very little. I've always let others fight my battles for me. I let _you_ fight my battles for me.'

'None of us would have had the strength to fight if you hadn't drawn an ideal for us, an ideal of peace. Those people took to the streets to stop Mariemaia's still-crawling war before it could actually start, and that was only after _you_ called out to them. You…' I paused, nearly out of breath. I doubted I'd ever made such a long speech before, not without careful previous planning at least, and with such eloquence. I was impressed at myself suddenly, at all the things that I'd thought yet never spoken and I was amazed at my next realisation… 'You give people heart.'

 _You give_ me _a heart._

 _And_ that _is why I need you to be happy._

The silence stretched. I wondered if she had seen it in my eyes… Had she read my thoughts? She took a wavering sip of her drink, finally moving to sit across from me and all that without a single protest. Her hands were clenched tightly around her tumbler.

'You told my mother you have people in Japan.'

'Hn.'

'Have you…' she trailed off again as she had done during lunch. At that very same question. And I suspected I knew what it was she meant to ask, because that was what my life seemed to have come down to those last couple of weeks.

I stirred my whisky, moving my glass in tiny nervous circles. 'I've a grandmother… and an aunt.'

For a second, she looked surprised. Her eyes widened slightly and her mouth formed a soundless O. Then she grinned her amused grin. 'The Yui family?'

'The Tanaka family, actually.'

'Tanaka?' she tested the name on her tongue. 'And you did not wish to have your name changed?'

I stopped fidgeting with my drink and took an experimental sip instead. It was awful strong. 'I'm not sure I know who I am, but I do know I'm not a Tanaka. I don't think I ever will be.'

Relena was quiet. She sipped her own whisky and let her eyes wander around the room as if to give me some measure of privacy. 'Was Tanaka your mother's or your father's name?'

'My mother's. My father's was Lowe, though I've doubts that was his _real_ name. He's no family left. I don't know how, but I do know that. In any case, I would never have gone after his family. He was completely estranged from them.'

'I know practically nothing about my biological father myself.' She confessed. 'He's the one responsible for making the Peacecraft name what it is, but he wasn't in fact born a Peacecraft. He became one through his marriage to my mother. Yes, he probably had been one at heart already, regardless of his birth name. Surprisingly, though there's a lot of history written on the Peacecraft family there's little on Marticus' origins. Although, to be completely honest, I never really committed myself to the search. I just never felt the need to.'

'You didn't keep the Peacecraft surname either.'

'No.' Relena conceded. 'My brother will carry that name. I know it seems – because of my ideals and all that I've done and fought for – that I'm much more a Peacecraft than he'll ever be and that's probably true, but… The Darlians brought me up, they made me who I am. They are my real family. Besides, just as you feel you'll never be a Tanaka, I know in my heart I could never carry that name for long. I could never be a Peacecraft. It's just not me.'

'And yet you were one for a while. How did it feel?'

She did not shy away from my gaze, but held it. And I could see she was thinking very carefully about her answer. She finished her drink and laid her tumbler on the coffee table. I wasn't sure I'd manage to finish mine.

'The Peacecrafts…' she began, pausing for a second to reorganize her thoughts. 'The Peacecrafts gave peace a strong name and a comely face. They are its ambassadors, its representatives, and so they must also be willing to be its martyrs. And they were! Milliardo and I— Oh, well. Not me, I guess, but Milliardo's all that's left. And his children. I've fought and I still fight to uphold the Peacecraft ideals, but I don't want to be the face of peace, Heero. I don't want to be a martyr.'

Yet she almost had been. Mariemaia – or Dekim Barton rather – would have killed her had things gone wrong for us. We both knew that, but I had not realised until that moment that Relena had been aware of how close she'd come. She had always acted so bravely on the face of danger… Still I should have known she would be affected. Anyone, who had not been prepared as I had, would have been.

'What _do_ you want?' I asked. It was not a patronizing question. It wasn't even for my sake, but for hers that I was putting it.

She choked on a bitter laugh and ended up shaking her head and blinking back tears. 'I don't know.' She said hoarsely, then paused, swallowed and repeated in her normal voice, turning back to me. 'I don't know. Do you?'

'I once thought I did, but now…' I shrugged and drained the contents of my glass. I'd thought, for a moment there, that she was happy. She'd seemed satisfied with her job at the very least. Now, I could see she wasn't. And I was at a loss as to what I could do to assist her.

'You said you're not happy.' She looked deep into my eyes, as if searching for any sign that I might have lied to her. 'You're not happy living with your family and working at the repair shop.'

'Until recently,' I confessed, not bothering to hide the anger I felt at myself. 'I thought I was. But – as you must have already noticed – I believed a lot of things which turned out not to be true.'

'Perhaps you _wanted_ to believe they were.'

'I did.' I nodded without hesitation and that seemed to surprise her. She didn't know I'd been over that topic with Wischard only days before.

After a moment, Relena nodded to herself. 'So did I.'

And so we sat there in companionable silence. Two miserable people who had no idea what they wanted from life.

I knew I wanted her to be happy, because I knew that would put me at ease if even a little. Nothing else mattered to me at that moment, even though another person's happiness seemed to be the kind of objective which was completely out of my jurisdiction.

Relena, at last, stood up and offered me a second drink which I politely declined.

She poured herself another dose, walked past the couch and the coffee table and took a seat by my side this time. I was forced to shift in order to be able to look at her without giving myself a crick. With the whisky she also seemed to be swallowing the courage to say what was on her mind.

'I think…' she began, hesitating. 'I think I've already done all I could to make this world a better place. Once this project is over, in a year or so… I'll resign. I want to become an ordinary person again. If it's not too late that is.'

'Hn.' I nodded. She could see I took her words seriously.

'Maybe I could hide with you for a while? I doubt people would recognise me in Japan. They might know me, but… Especially not in the countryside.'

I could tell by her tone that she was hopeful, even though she made it sound light and teasing. She was still searching for the permission to visit me, which I'd neither given nor denied her. And, though there was surely a lot of truth to what she'd just said, I didn't know how to respond.

'I'm sorry, Heero.' Relena, having noticed my hesitation, shook her head. 'You don't need to say anything. It's just… It's been so long since we saw each other last and… I missed you so much… I got ahead of myself. Forgive me.' She turned away, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol and her eyes moist. 'To think you'll be gone soon and I won't see you again…'

Looking at her then, she was so close and yet seemed so far. So lonely… She'd had many doubts and regrets throughout those years, she'd struggled, but – because she wouldn't dare show weakness in front of her enemies or burden her loved ones – she'd had no one to confide in. I was suddenly an exception, though I suspected that was mostly due to all the emotions my return had stirred and how they had made her already worn and rusty armour crumble. She was too tired now to do anything other than give in.

'It doesn't have to be that way.' I told her, yet I could see she put no faith in my words. I didn't blame her. 'I know I've never been good at keeping in touch. I spent so long learning and trying to vanish that it's become second nature to me.' At my unexpected sincerity Relena turned back to me and, though still uncertain, her eyes lit up a little. 'I'll leave you my home and work numbers. Call me whenever you wish, whenever you need.'

I had given no one those numbers, not even Wischard, and I realised now that perhaps I was being selfish. I sought them when I needed their help or when I wished to see and talk to them, but when they needed me I was gone, disappeared into the world. It was what I'd learned to do. Be inconspicuous, don't create attachments, leave no trace behind. And, yes, it was selfish because the attachments were inevitably made.

Relena had been watching me closely and quietly. The scepticism had melted from her expression, her eyes reflecting the orange light of the lamps in a sudden wistful way. It was hard not to be reminded of how beautiful she'd become, how strong and mature and yet when it came down to it she was still human. And, apparently, so was I.

'You've changed.' She whispered in sudden realisation.

'Yes.' I looked deep into her eyes, and an intense warmth seemed to spread all over me. The words nearly caught in my throat. 'Is that bad?'

'No.' she shook her head lightly. 'No, it's not.'

I could smell the whisky on her breath, or maybe it was my own, and that something which had awakened within me at her hug that morning now flourished under her gaze. A need, an ache, a longing so deep and so strong it nearly robbed me of my senses.

We moved in unison. Our lips met first, tentative yet desperate. Relena's empty glass tumbled to the ground, but it's fall – cushioned by the rug – was but a distant muffled sound against the frantic beating of my heart. Her fingers ran through my hair, sending shivers down my spine. I pulled her to me, against me, just like that morning, and she was soft and warm and solid in my arms, beneath my hands. I was drowning in her, yet I did not care. If she had not pulled away, we would have both gladly died right there and then.

She rested her head on my shoulder as she regained her breath. I wondered if I'd ever catch mine. My arms remained around her, tightening instead of letting go. As our senses returned, her arms also tightened around me and I ran my hands up and down her back trying to soothe us both. We were reluctant to speak. My thoughts were scattered and I do not think I could've articulated a single word right then. Something major had just happened and yet it all felt so fragile, as if the tiniest whisper might be able to break through the spell, turning the comfort we were exchanging into embarrassment and guilt.

I thought it'd be Relena to disrupt the silence, but it was I who did it. I was consumed by uncertainty. My mind filled with so many questions I could make no sense of any of it. For once, I felt I needed to speak first and think later. 'What—.'

'Don't.' she cut me off immediately, painfully. 'Please, don't. Not now. Not yet.'

'But—.' Relena stopped me again, sealing my lips with a finger. She had pulled slightly away, enough so that she could appraise my scowl.

 _Of all the times for you to start speaking, it had to be now?_ Her expression seemed to say. She took a deep breath and sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. 'We both want this, right?'

To be honest, I was confused.

Did she mean for us to be together forever? Or for a single night? Were we talking immediate present or were we talking long-run future? How was I supposed to answer not knowing what she meant? Not having considered all the implications? The possible outcomes?

'Relena…'

'Forget about tomorrow, Heero. Pretend the world will end. It's a simple question.'

Her eyes were filled by the same unquenchable fire which suddenly appeared to move her. She was completely resolute, determined and confident, so ridiculously sure of herself it was breathtaking. Part of me did fear it was the alcohol speaking, but I preferred to think all it had done was boast her courage so she could speak her mind freely.

Simple.

Yes, it was all quite simple. It was _I_ who insisted on making it so complicated. I swallowed drily. My breath and heart already speeding with the mere conscience of what I was about to do. If the world was ending, would I wish to spend my last night with her?

'Yes.'

Relena let out the breath she'd been holding with a nod. Then picked up her empty tumbler, placed it beside mine on the coffee table and stood on shaky legs. She took another deep breath. We were both nervous and excited, like teenagers about to break some major ground rule, though we bore the confidence and the reason of experienced adults to help us work thorough it. She offered me her hand and I let her guide me into the darkness and quietness of the house, where my speeding heart was all that I could hear and she was all my eyes could see.

* * *

A few days later, Relena saw me off at the lobby. She had work to do so she couldn't accompany me to the airport, but she'd insisted I allow Pagan to drive me. I had then made my way to the ministry building to meet them and say goodbye.

We hadn't really talked about what had happened on that first night, but focused instead on improving her security plan.

Even though the world hadn't ended.

And despite the fact that it _had_.

In a way.

I was going back to Japan because I had people there who depended on me. People I inadvertently cared for, but that did not mean things would remain the same. No, they definitely wouldn't. Because _I_ had changed and so would everything else. Now, that I knew where home was, I could see how empty and unfulfilling my life had been. I understood what I had missed about the war, that it was not the war itself, but the one woman and the feeling of purpose she gave me. I finally knew what I wanted and what I needed to do to achieve it. No matter how hard it might be.

'I won't ask you to stay.' She told me quietly. We stood by a column, far enough from the receptionist and security staff so as not to be overheard, yet still within their sights. Her eyes, when she met mine, were warm despite the sad undertones of our meeting. 'Because I know you won't.' I nodded, and saw her jaw quiver slightly as she turned back to the door, through which Pagan would show at any second. She bit her lip, battling herself fiercely.

And losing.

'But I wished you would.'

'It won't be forever.' I reminded her, and was surprised to find my hand reaching out to touch her face. It hovered between us for a moment before I lowered it, fisted, back to my side. Relena knew, as well as I did, that such displays in public would feed unwanted rumours, yet she looked torn anyway. She stared at the vacant spot my hand had left for a moment longer than necessary, then turned back away. 'You've my contact.'

It was her turn to nod though I could still sense some scepticism on her part. _That's not enough to keep you from vanishing again, is it?_ Her bitter smile seemed to say. 'You've mine as well.' She voiced instead.

'Hn.'

Pagan appeared at the doorway. He nodded at us in greeting though he didn't approach, walking back out instead.

The time for us to part drew near.

I glanced at my watch, feeling both eager and reluctant.

'I guess this is it then.' Relena broke the heavy silence because she knew someone must. 'Thank you. For everything.'

'Make sure to improve your security. At least those aspects I highlighted for you.'

'You really think I'm in danger?' she looked genuinely worried for the first time since I'd first mentioned it. We'd discussed all the ameliorations at length but she'd always maintained an air of carelessness as if she was only doing it for my sake. Now, as I readied to leave she appeared to have grown tired of pretending. Deep down, we both knew, she was afraid and the constant threat that seemed to hang over her, ever since her father's murder by Oz, was the reason why she felt so strained and tired, why she meant to quit in a year or so.

'No, but I don't want you to take any chances. I want you to feel safe.'

She turned away, giving me a nod of understanding, and with an enormous effort I took the first step towards the exit. 'Stay.'

'What?'

'Heero, please.'

'Relena…' It hurt to watch her struggle, to see her fear, her exhaustion and her pain. It hurt to realise she had just broken her own promise not to ask me to stay. And I could no longer stand it. Because without her I was nothing, I was no one. Because I felt her pain as vividly as if it were my own. I told her what was really on my mind. 'I must go back. It is my duty, but that's not the only reason… I'm also going back because – before you can run away to hide with me – I need to build a place for you in my life.'

A tear ran down her face, leaving a dark path down her pale cheek. It was obvious enough for the few people watching us that we were no mere acquaintances, but we still refrained from giving them anything concrete to talk about. I smiled at her, yet I remained a couple of steps away. 'I want that place to be ready for you when you need it.'

Relena nodded again though this time she met my eyes and smiled.

And that smile said it all.

I went back to Japan that afternoon certain that in about twelve months she would be joining me and knowing in my heart that I was doing the right thing this time.

* * *

*Just one footnote to this chapter: In the anime's first episode Zechs says Gundam 01 is headed towards Eurasia and later he mentions it's sunk at J.A.P. point. That's surely a reference to Japan and so Relena and Heero would have met in Japan. Since they never made it clear where 01 fell though, I've taken the liberty to twist things. Let's say our protagonists met somewhere around Hong Kong then, eh?


	5. Shiawase

**Chapter V**

 **Shiawase (Happiness)**

I came home to a dark, silent house, though that was not unusual. It was a big old house and we were a quiet family. What was unusual, however, was for me to find Morimoto there instead of Sachiko. He was sitting at the _kotatsu_ , watching the news with a longneck in his hand. His back was turned towards the door and I was forced to clear my throat to make my presence known.

'Whoa!' he stood up, a wide grin on his face. ' _Okaeri_! _Okaeri_!'

I had a feeling he had thought I would not be back at all so great seemed to be his surprise. I gave him a nod. 'Sachiko?'

'Ah, Sachiko's at the hospital with your _baa-chan_. No, no! No need to be alarmed. She felt sick a couple days ago so Sachiko took her in. They said she has an ulcer, but everything's fine now. She should be back home in a couple of days.'

It took me a moment to process all of that, and Morimoto offered me a sip of his beer. I waved at it dismissively so he resumed. 'Sachiko wanted to leave you a note, but I said I'd wait for you. I had my doubts you'd return though.' He scratched his grizzling head, embarrassed at his admission. 'I'm glad Sachiko was right.'

'Hn.'

I looked around the room, expecting something to be amiss. I had noticed how Morimoto no longer called my aunt by her surname nor did he use an honorific to address her. Instead, he was using her first name, plain and simple. A sign of great intimacy even for a man as informal as himself. I could see he hadn't moved in yet, though. I doubted Junko would have allowed it, not before he and Sachiko got married. It was strange how I suddenly felt the need to act as her deputy. Perhaps, I thought, I could be a Tanaka after all.

'What hospital did you say she was in?'

'I didn't. It's almost an hour's drive away. Are you sure you're up to it? I told you she's alright.'

'I'm sure.' I said. It was the right thing to do.

'Let me drive you then. So you can rest a bit on the way there.'

'Un.' I bowed shortly in thanks and, while he turned off the television and fetched his car keys, I peeked through the slightly parted _shoji_ screen at the other room. I could see a corner of the altar where I knew my mother awaited for the next prayer or gift that would be offered her. For a moment, it was almost as if she really _was_ there.

'Ready?' Morimoto's lively tone cut the heavy silence.

I closed the screen and nodded.

The snow had melted significantly since I'd left and, though it was still cold outside, only sleet remained on the streets. We spoke very little on the way and very rarely did we cross paths with another car. By the time we arrived at the hospital, night had already fallen and, just as I stepped out of the car and into the darkness, Morimoto turned to me.

'Have you found an answer to your problem?' he asked, his hand clutching the steering wheel, and – because I could see it was a serious question – I gave it careful thought.

'I may be exchanging a problem for another… But, yes, I have.'

He waved me goodbye as I shut the door and stood at the curb until he was gone, letting the cold and that realisation seep into my bones. I had known I'd have to face Junko, that's what I'd been thinking about when I'd told Relena I needed to build a place for her in my life, but it had never felt real until that very moment. This time, however, I wasn't unprepared. I'd had a long flight to straighten my thoughts and phrase my words as best as possible, considering all variables and possible reactions she might have. I could not have predicted her being at the hospital, but if what Morimoto said was accurate and she was indeed fine then that changed nothing.

It was time to face reality.

* * *

The receptionist called Sachiko to tell her I was coming up to the room. She was waiting outside when I turned into the corridor. I was grateful, for I wanted to speak to her in private before seeing Junko. I wanted a report on the situation, a detailed reliable one, and I needed her opinion as the person who knew her mother better than any other.

' _Hiiro-kun_.' She sounded relieved. Her arms were wrapped around herself, holding a woollen shawl about her thin frame. 'It is really good to see you.'

I nodded, glancing briefly at the white door beside her. 'What happened?'

'Stomach ulcer. She felt sick a couple days ago and vomited blood so I brought her straight here. The doctors decided to keep her for a few extra days because of her age and to run a couple more tests. They wanted to make sure it wasn't cancer.' Sachiko looked at the door and sighed wearily. 'She worries too much. She worries about everything all the time.'

'What did the doctors say?'

'Stress is the most likely cause of her ulcer, but they wouldn't dare tell her to be less strict or demanding. Not only is she a lot older than them, but they come from traditional families themselves. You know how it is.'

When she went quiet, lost in angry thoughts about Junko's stubbornness, I changed the subject. 'What about you and Morimoto- _san_?'

'Ah…' Sachiko flushed at that, blinking at me a couple of times before looking down at her feet. 'I know it's not what you actually meant to happen, but… We _are_ getting married.' A small smile curled her lips. It was an intimate smile, at some cherished memory I wasn't privy to, and it lit up her face in a way I'd never seen before. 'Even _Hahaue_ agreed, though she doesn't like him.' A fact Sachiko found amusing as I could tell by her sudden light chuckle.

'He's not as bound by decorum as she would have liked, especially not once you get to know him… But I'm glad you're happy.'

' _Arigatou, Hiiro-kun._ It's all thanks to you, really.'

' _Dou itashimashite._ ' I shook my head dismissively. It was actually quite fortunate that things had turned out so well, for it had been a hasty plan based on a hunch and nothing else.

'What about you?'

Her question startled me. I had forgotten about my own predicament for a moment, yet this was a good turn of events, for the woman my aunt had been before Morimoto might not have been able to comprehend my reasons as well as the one who now stood across from me.

'I lied. There _is_ a woman from the war. The rumours were true all along.'

Sachiko did not seem surprised. 'And are you married to her?'

'No. That part wasn't accurate.'

'But you want to be.'

'If that's what it takes for us to be together, then yes.'

'Is there any chance _Hahaue_ will approve of her?'

'I shouldn't think so.'

She nodded thoughtfully. 'When is she coming?'

'In about a year. She's work yet to do.' I could see Sachiko was still thinking, turning the information around in her head, but I would not let her. 'Is Junko well enough to hear me?'

' _Hahaue_ 's strong. And, if she gets aggravated, then this is the best place you could possibly be.'

' _Un_.' I nodded agreement. Love had made her stronger and I could only hope it would do the same to me. 'Go home. Morimoto- _san_ 's parked somewhere outside. I'll stay with her tonight.'

Sachiko bowed gratefully as I seized the doorknob and twisted it. ' _Ganbate kudasai._ ' she urged me.

I refused to look back.

* * *

It was an individual room with a large hospital bed, a sofa against one of the walls and a window overlooking the parking lot at the other. Across the bed, they had hung a television above a small dining table where someone – Sachiko most likely – had placed a vase of lilies. They must have cost a fortune at this time of the year.

Junko looked even smaller and paler than I remembered, which was to be expected given her illness. Her bony hands worried at the edge of the sheets as she sat watching one of those colourful game shows I could barely stand. I saw her lips form the shape of her daughter's name before she realised it was I who had closed the door. She had not expected me, either because Sachiko had not told her of my arrival or because she too – like Morimoto – had thought I would not come back. Still, her face was completely blank and I found nothing in it, not even the slightest trace of surprise.

 _Does she realise just how alike we are?_ I wondered.

' _Obaa-sama_.' I greeted, halting at the foot of her bed, and for a fraction of a second I saw her mask falter.

'You've never called me that before.' She observed nonchalantly, her eyes once more on the screen though we both knew her focus was entirely on our conversation. I shrugged and pulled myself a chair, wishing to sit closer to her than the sofa would allow. 'Sachiko's getting married. _Omedetou_.'

'She tells me you don't like Morimoto- _san_ though.'

' _Hai_. It's true. He's not deferential enough, but he seems to be an honest man so I'll allow it. Sachiko has little options at this point anyway.'

'Why—.' I began, but felt I sounded too mutinous and decided to start over in a meeker tone. 'Is upholding tradition really that important?'

Junko stared at me as if I'd suddenly grown a second head. 'Of course it is!'

'Why?'

I expected a long and boring sermon, but instead she looked away again and her jaw clenched. It took her a long moment to answer. 'Your _mother_ cared nothing for tradition.' She began, mentioning Aoi with some displeasure. 'She left home without sparing any of us a thought, made a life by destroying the lives of others, got pregnant of a nobody who had no intention of marrying her and then, instead of finding a decent man to marry and save herself and us some dignity, she chose that damned _Kuraku_ who ended up killing her as well as himself.

'Had she respected tradition none of this would have happened. Your mother would be here now, married to a good man, looking after me. And I assure you, despite what she may have believed, she would have been happy.'

'That may be so.' I agreed after a moment's consideration in which I found her words to be entirely valid. 'Or maybe the Earth would be no more.'

Because – she might not know it – but I had played a major role in saving the planet she called home. And I, more than anyone, knew how important it was to have something like that. A home. In her scenario, I would have never been born and who knows what the alternative pilot of gundam zero one would have done? Yet Junko did not realise that and she paid no mind to my words.

'You would have had an actual father.' She shook her head as if to show me just how unfortunate it all was. 'Would have grown up here, with us, and you too would've been happy. You would not feel the need to run away from this place… From me. Same as your mother did.'

I could not suppress a sigh at that. Right when I was beginning to think I understood her, Junko had thoroughly confused me. What had been the cause of all this? My mother leaving? Was she the culprit? Or was there even a culprit to begin with?

'I did not run away.' I decided to start by absolving myself of any blame, which appeared to be the easiest thing I could do at that moment. 'I took some time off work to visit a couple of people I met during the war. And now I'm here. I am back.'

 _Despite the fact that I_ had _wanted to stay away._

Her eyes narrowed at me suspiciously. 'Then you'll agree to meet your prospective brides once Sachiko is married to that _baka_?' she was testing me though I think she never truly believed I would pass. I was, after all – as she had implied more than once herself – too much like my mother.

'No, I won't.'

'Why?' her tone and look soured so I could not blame Aoi for running away, if that was indeed what she had done.

'There's already a woman.'

'Is she one of these people you went to see?'

'Yes.'

'Are you married to her?'

'No.'

'Is she carrying your child?'

'No.'

'Then forget her.' She said it so simply, so _casually_ , it blew me away.

'Forget her?' I asked in my stupor. Did she really think that was possible? True, she did not know the entire story, she was not aware of all the things Relena and I had been through, but…

'But you love her. Is that what you wish to say?'

 _That sounds about right._ 'Yes.'

I had no idea what else to say and I doubted that admission would be enough to convince her. I stared at her, unable to comprehend what she truly wanted of me, and, suddenly, I did want to run away. Yet that was something a teenager would have done and I had never really been one. So I took a very deep breath instead and closed my eyes for a second as I regained my composure.

'I won't leave.' I promised her. 'I'll stay here and she'll join me.'

'Will she?' Junko clearly did not believe me. 'Will she look after me then? As the brides I picked for you would have? Is she familiar with our customs? Our food? Can she even speak our language?'

 _Neither could I when I arrived_. I thought, though I refrained from reminding her of that as I had a feeling that it wouldn't help my case at all. 'Sachiko has already stated she wishes to continue looking after you.'

'I refuse to live with that _baka,_ Morimoto- _san_.'

'Then I guess you'll have to settle for me.' I told her because, at last, I'd found a trail that led to a logical end and, before she had the chance to prepare a riposte, I stood up and put the chair away.

'Where are you going, boy?' Junko thought at last I was running away. She sounded outraged.

'To the cafeteria. Is there anything you need?'

With a gesture, she waved me away. I paused when my hand found the doorknob and frowned. Her words had just come back to me and I glanced over my shoulder. She had turned towards the window, but her yellowish reflection still watched me. 'What you said about my childhood… I thought, for a second, you wanted me to be happy.'

The reflected Junko showed me nothing, and I stepped out into the corridor, closing the door behind me.

* * *

I spent the following month trying to make sense of Junko's words and actions. I did not wish to bother anyone with my troubles anymore and that – coupled with my frustration at being caught up in this situation – made me close up completely. And yet, I admit I had little success at understanding my grandmother.

She had always resented my mother for leaving and then she resented her for dying as well. Junko believed it had been her disregard for tradition which had killed her and, it was true Aoi would not have died as she did had she abided by her mother's wishes, but how did that relate to me?

It was too late to change what had happened, who I was or the things I'd done. Marrying a local would not save me if someone from the past found me and came looking for vengeance. I had already promised not to leave and I had every intention of keeping my word. So was it an irrational fear? Or did Junko really believe that Relena – even though she did not even know her – would be the death of me?

My mother had married a foreigner and rumour had it he had killer her as well as himself. It was true I might die trying to protect Relena, but I knew without a doubt she would never harm anyone. Would it be enough to tell Junko so? No, of course not. She would claim my judgement was compromised by my feelings. In that sense, our reasoning was so alike it became easy to follow. The only solution then was for me to lie low and hope she'd forget about marrying me off until Relena came and then… Once she met her, Junko would see what I saw, surely?

There remained the matter of our family's renown to settle. She may not have brought it up at the hospital, because she had been too worried over who would look after her, but she could still use it against me. That was my one weak spot. The only puzzle I could not figure out how to solve.

Though I thought I knew someone that might.

'Morimoto- _san_ , would you excuse me if I made a personal call?' I finished wiping my hands and dropped the rag on the back of the chair across from his.

Morimoto had spent the morning and a good part of the afternoon, leaning back on his chair doing the accounting. Now, he remained on the very same spot eating a late lunch. 'Sachiko- _chan_ made it for me.' He had giddily informed me as if I hadn't been the one to bring him the _bento_ with my aunt's regards. After I made my odd request, he stared at me for a long moment as if he could not quite comprehend what I'd just said, but then – just as I was about to repeat myself – he nodded. ' _Douzo_.'

I bowed, waiting for him to give me some privacy, but as he kept munching on his vegetables I began to dial. 'You should get a mobile.' He told me, pointing at the phone with his chopsticks. 'All people your age own one.'

 _And you should get a cordless phone._ I thought to myself. _Everyone in the world owns one._

Talking was not one of my specialties and I'd long developed an aversion for telephones. I only used the dratted thing when it was something work related, and – even so - I usually relegated such tasks to Morimoto. Therefore, at that moment, I felt uncomfortable in ways I had never experienced before. It was nerve-wrecking. But if he wished to eavesdrop then so be it. The telephone was his so maybe it was within his rights. I doubted he'd understand a word of it anyway.

It took her a while to pick up. I cleared my throat.

'Heero?'

'Is it a bad time?'

'Oh, no. I've just arrived at the office.'

'Hn.'

'I thought it was my mother calling.' She sounded amused and sheepish. 'She's the only one who uses my private number… I'm glad I was wrong.'

'Is everything alright?'

'Yes, I… I've already begun implementing those security upgrades we discussed.'

'Good.'

'Is something the matter?'

'Actually, I… I have a question for you.'

By Morimoto's intent face and absent-minded chewing I could see, not only was he understanding every word, he probably thought I was about to propose. It was about all I could do to hope _she_ did not get the same impression.

'What is it?'

'You think you restored your families' reputations?'

'Mmm…' it was as if I could see her, fingering a strand of dark blonde hair as she thought. 'I guess so. In a way.'

'What do you think was the key to doing it?'

'The key? The key…' there was a moment of silence as she considered my question. I could hear her faintly inform her secretary that she was in the middle of an important call and to tell somebody to wait.

'Relena. You're busy. I'll—.'

'No, no. I've got it already. Remember that talk we had… When I told you I could no longer be a Peacecraft?'

'Because you did not wish to become a martyr.'

'Uh…' my good memory appeared to unsettle her for a moment. 'Well, yes. And that's despite the fact that I've incorporated their ideals. I did say that, didn't I?'

'Yes.'

'That's what I think is the key in this case. It was by embodying the Peacecrafts' ideals that I made their name and their kingdom something to be reckoned with again, to be respected. Was that what you had in mind? Sort of?'

'Hn.'

'Does it make sense?'

'It does.'

'Good.' Relena exhaled a deep breath as if relieved for me, but quickly grew quiet again. I felt she wanted to say something so I waited. 'I'm sorry I didn't call, I—.'

'I know you're busy.' I reassured her quietly. News on the colonization of Mars came all the time now and I'd been keeping close track of her activities through the internet and the television.

'I've been horribly busy, yes, but that's no excuse. The truth is I wasn't sure I could call. I know you gave me permission to, but… You've always been so private, I was not sure it would be right – even for me – to disturb you.'

'Relena.'

'I know. I know it's silly. I'll call from now on. When my schedule allows me…and the zonetime.'

'It's not silly.' I told her even though she'd already worked through her reservations herself. I knew myself enough by then to admit that what she said was true and to understand how she felt, still it surprised me to hear her say so. 'I'm sorry I made you feel that way.'

'It's all right, Heero. Next time _I'll_ call.'

'I'll be waiting then.'

'You should get a mobile.' She told me. 'That way we could see each other.'

I swallowed a groan and waited for her to hang up, but there was a pregnant pause as if she was waiting for a reply. 'I'll think about it.' I said at last.

'Talk to you soon.' And, with that and a goodbye, she was gone.

I glanced at Morimoto as I laid down the receiver, I thought he'd say something, but he kept on eating thoughtfully. It was only when I took the seat across from him that he felt invited to speak. 'Junko's still bothering you about that family stuff?'

'No, but she might.'

'Ah… Better safe than sorry, eh?'

' _Un_.' I nodded.

'You really think she knows the answer? That's quite the tricky question you posed there.'

At that, I could not help but smirk. 'If _she_ doesn't then nobody will.'

* * *

I knew the moment I'd finished talking to Relena that I could not solve that riddle on my own. I might be a Tanaka by blood, but I had joined the family only recently and so I didn't have the slightest idea what we were supposed to stand for. Tradition maybe? But if that was it then it was a lost battle. My mother had long broken tradition and I had no intention of putting it back together. No, there had to be something else, yet – whatever that was – only a _real_ Tanaka would know. And, because I was trying very hard not to remind Junko of my unmarried existence, I chose to question Sachiko about it.

She had received a package that afternoon. I'd seen it sitting on the cupboard when I arrived from work and assumed it was important for, as soon as we had finished our dinner, she had retired to her bedroom with it in her arms. I waited a moment before I followed. I'd never been to Sachiko's room before and if Junko happened to step out of hers then she would surely take note of it. So I made sure she had retired before I made a move. Attracting her attention was the last thing I wanted.

' _Ojamashimasu_.' I stepped in as she bid me enter and slid the screen closed behind me.

'It's beautiful, isn't it?' The cardboard box laid open in front of her and she smiled dreamily at the wedding _kimono_ she was pulling out of it. It was pearly white and embroidered with a pattern of herons and flowers. I considered telling her my aesthetic sense for such things was inexistent, but opted for a nod instead. 'I wished your mother were here to see this… Though I always _did_ resent her for dumping the life she did not want on me, then leaving me behind. She _was_ my best friend.'

'I'm sorry.'

When Sachiko finally turned to me it was with a gentle smile. 'It's not your fault.' She shook her head, then – after a moment – seemed to realise the awkwardness of my presence. 'What is it?'

'There's something I want to ask you.'

'Please.' She gestured for me to sit and I abided, crossing the distance between us and kneeling in front of her on the _tatami._

'You think the Tanakas have some kind of ideal they defend?'

'Ideal?'

'A set of values perhaps?'

'Mmm…' she did not really give it much thought. 'Why don't you ask Junko?'

I'd feared she might say that. 'I'm trying to stay out of her way for now.'

'Don't think she's forgotten, _Hiiro-kun_.' My intentions were obviously as clear as day to her, and her brows furrowed at me in sympathy. 'She never does.'

'I didn't think so.'

' _Un._ You're trying to postpone the inevitable even if just a little. But if it's Junko you're trying to please then it's _her_ views you should be aware of. Besides, you've an agreement with her, don't you? That she won't marry you before I'm married? You should not worry then. _Hahaue_ is a woman of her word.'

'You'll be married soon.' I reminded her ominously.

' _Hai._ Soon.' Sachiko nodded, smiling widely at the thought. 'But not yet.'

* * *

As much sense as my aunt's words made to me, I did not yet wish to talk to Junko and the reason behind that reluctance was much more emotional than it was rational. I was angry and disappointed at her. It was still the result of our conversation in the hospital and the fact that – despite us being so alike in so many ways – I could not understand her reasons. Why was it so important that _my wife_ take care of her? Not Sachiko, not Morimoto, not me but my wife? Was it simply tradition? Or a way to make sure I would not leave her as my mother had? And if that was the case then would my word not be enough?

And what of the family's renown? Was that just an excuse? I could not comprehend what made others' recognition so important and my ignorance annoyed me to my very core. Yet it was that relentless unease which, finally, drove me to Junko's side one Sunday a couple weeks later.

Sachiko and I had planted a _sakura_ a few metres from the edge of the property, back during my first spring in Japan, and it was at its blossoms that my grandmother stared that cool April morning. They were indeed beautiful with their delicate rose coloured petals falling silently whenever the breeze blew.

'You did a good job.' Junko spoke up all of a sudden. She had not turned around, not for a second, yet somehow she'd known I was there. 'You may have a gift.'

Was that why she wanted me to marry the daughter of a family of flower farmers? Because I might have a green thumb?

'Sit down and speak, child.' Once again her stern voice cut through my thoughts.

' _Obaa-sama_.' I had to battle an unexpected surge of childish stubbornness, but – feeling victorious – I kneeled beside her on the _engawa_. Of all the people I'd ever met she was the only one who could throw me off balance with such ease. It was both admirable and exasperating.

'Is there an ideal our family should stand for?' I asked after a long moment of silence, deciding it was best to go straight to the point, since I could not really tell her I was gathering data in order to outsmart her at her own game.

She lifted her steaming cup to her lips with both hands and took a pensive sip. If my question had surprised her I could not tell, but it was clear she had not been prepared for it. 'To live a righteous and honest life is as much as we can ever hope to achieve.'

 _It's a lost cause._ I thought and felt the urge to laugh at the irony of it all. 'Is that enough to make us respectful and renowned?'

'Hard work is important as well.' Junko took another sip, her tone growing somewhat pensive. 'And upholding tradition.'

Righteousness. Honesty. Hard work. Tradition.

The four pillars that sustained the house of Tanaka. I had no pillars and therefore no house or right to carry her family's name. War does that to you. I had killed and I had lied. I had run away from my duties and now I refused to follow tradition. But Junko did not know that. She might suspect it, for she was no fool, yet she did not know for certain. Would then removing one pillar make the whole structure collapse? Would setting tradition aside really damage the reputation the Tanakas had built throughout so many generations?

'Is there no other way?'

At that, she finally turned to me and I could see how carefully her eyes studied me. Was it herself she saw in me or was it Aoi? Junko looked away again without a word. I followed her gaze back to the _sakura_ blossoms. 'So beautiful and yet so tragically short…*'

'Eh?'

'What is her name?'

The change of subject was so sudden and the question so unexpected it took me a moment to recover. When I did, my heart raced and my mouth went dry. The old woman had unsettled me again and at an apparently crucial moment at that. I focused on the quietly thriving garden, seeking some kind of reassurance. It was not just the pink _sakura_ that gave it colour. There were red tulips, white camellias, purple violets and bluish primroses. They all seemed so perfect I wondered if Junko might be right about my 'gift'. Had I really been responsible for all that beauty? That _life_?

'Relena. Her name's Relena.'

' _Un._ ' I had purposefully omitted her surname and her given name alone did not ring any bells. 'I will meet her, if that is your wish.' She told me and added imperiously. 'But keep it in mind I have not yet made a decision.'

The feeling which came over me at that moment is one I didn't think I'd ever be able to put into words. I was surprised, yes, and I was worried about what that meeting would entail, but above all I was relived. Gladly so. And, because I found no words to express myself, I simply stood and bowed to my grandmother as low as I could. A corner of her mouth twitched upwards for a second before she resumed watching the garden. My mouth too curved up slightly as I finally understood what it was that I felt.

Gratitude.

* * *

Winter couldn't come too soon.

Sachiko and Morimoto got married in the early summer, before the heat became unbearable. It was a traditional wedding, intimate and discreet. Junko seemed pleased enough, at least until her new son-in-law moved in with us. She made sure to inform him that arrangement would last only until I got married and my wife replaced her daughter as her caretaker, but – while I cringed inwardly, hoping she would not forget our agreement – Morimoto went on unconcerned. He acted around her as if she was his own beloved grandmother, giving her hugs and calling her _baa-chan_ even as she glared daggers at him. And I had the distinct impression he would not be moving out of that old house before he was dead.

The same could be said for Sachiko, who continued to reassure me every other day that Junko _would_ eventually change her mind. Though my aunt asked no questions about the woman I meant to bring into our family, she could easily surmise a foreign woman would never live up to her mother's unreasonably high expectations. I feared she was right, yet Relena seemed so astounding in my eyes I couldn't help but hope that Junko would accept her, despite her shortcomings, and let me look after her myself if she still refused to accept Sachiko.

Relena and I spoke on the phone at least once a month. She was busy both with her brother's project and with her own, which involved tying all possible loose ends before she quit. The incumbent ESUN president had already been informed as to her intentions of stepping down and taking some time off, so she was not the only one working overtime to make the transition as smooth as possible, still there was a lot to be done and informing her mother was one of those things.

I tried not to rush her though I felt the constant pressure of Junko's long meaningful looks. _How long do you intend to keep me waiting?_ They seemed to say sometimes. _Do you take me for a fool, boy?_ They asked at others. She never said a word out loud, however, and I kept conveniently to myself, not giving her any dates or making any promises. I still had to fill Relena in on my circumstances for I did not see it fit to tell her over the phone. If she asked me about myself, I stuck to my job and to harmless tales of my peculiar family so she knew a little more about those she would soon meet.

When autumn came, people started moving to Mars. We watched on the news everyday as more and more of them arrived from the colonies and from the Earth in search of opportunities, better jobs and better lives. Junko often shook her head, as if unable to comprehend how a person could abandon all they had once known to move to a place where practically no one had ever been, a place we knew so little about as of yet. Relena was on screen a time or another, talking about the project and where the ESUN stood in the whole thing. I hoped – once my grandmother met her – her involvement with the colonization of Mars wouldn't prove a hindrance. It was Zechs – or rather Milliardo Peacecraft – who appeared on the news the most, however, for he was bound to be Mars' first president, his mandate starting together with the new Mars Century.

With the falling leaves also came news of Relena. Mrs. Darlian had not objected to her daughter's plan of visiting me. 'She's not very happy about being alone, but she says I must live my own life and that Pagan will have to be enough company for her.' Relena told me over the phone as I sat on Morimoto's chair. For once he had taken the day off and given up his eavesdropping privileges. 'I bought her and a couple of friends tickets for a New Year's cruise though, just in case, so she'll be distracted when I actually do leave. I should be there on the twenty-eighth then. Is that okay?'

'I'll be waiting for you at the airport.' I assured her. She had sounded a bit uncertain, as if she feared I might have changed my mind about it all.

'I can barely wait.' She confessed quietly.

'Hn.'

'Did I tell you I've started taking Japanese lessons? I know it's a short time to learn much more than the basics, but… My work here is almost done. True there's still a lot to do until I quit, but I've more free time now and I cannot stop thinking about you and the trip.'

'I didn't speak much Japanese when I first got here either.'

'I'm not sure about reading and writing though…'

'That takes time. Listening and speaking will get you through most things.'

'I did learn a bit of Chinese from my father, but it's been so long and the languages are so different!'

I smiled at her fretting though she could not see it. To think I'd come to Japan completely unprepared and made it as far as I had… 'You'll be fine, Relena. Most people these days speak other languages as well.'

'Oh… Of course. You're right.' She sounded embarrassed for overlooking something which appeared to be so obvious.

I nearly told her, for fear she would drop her lessons, it was actually quite convenient she was learning Japanese, since my grandmother, who expected Relena to look after her of all things, refused to speak any other language but her own. I did not think that revelation would scare her away. No, we had been through too much and waited too long for this to give up now. But I knew she would feel overly pressured and I could not have her worrying – on top of everything – about pleasing a woman who just could not be pleased.

'So how's work?' she asked as an afterthought and I was glad to steer the conversation in another direction.

The days dragged on, yet – surprisingly – time passed anyway. Hopeful people left for Mars, Morimoto pestered Junko, Sachiko grew to be as happy as her name asserted, I fixed mobile suits and Relena tied up all her loose ends. And, suddenly, Christmas had come and gone and I was on my way to the big city again.

* * *

Her hair was up in a neat bun and she wore a pair of sunglasses when I saw her walk through the international arrivals gate. On the trolley she had somehow managed to pile three of four huge bags while the last, slightly smaller one, she pulled behind her single-handedly. The airport staff rushed to help her as she stepped into their view, but she immediately dismissed them as she met my gaze and smiled. Before I moved to assist her, I burned the sight of her standing there, with her possessions around her, in my mind and told myself this was truly happening.

I relieved her of the heavy trolley without a word and we walked out of people's way as if we had done it a thousand times. Only then did we stop and meet each other's gaze. Relena removed her glasses and grinned as if she could suddenly see me clearly. Then she wrapped her arms around my neck as I buried my face in hers. Her perfume had faded throughout the long flight and the smell of her skin was strangely comforting. I could have sighed.

 _'_ _Tadaima_.' She said sweetly, already demonstrating her knowledge of everyday Japanese.

 _'_ _Okaerinasai._ '

Then she stepped back and glanced around the airport for the first time. 'Sorry about the "disguise". People often recognise me at airports and I did not wish to travel with an escort.'

I nodded in understanding. It might have been safer for her to travel with an escort, but I appreciated her discretion and was reassured by the fact that she was already with me, safe and sound and incognito. 'Have you eaten yet?'

'Yes, on the flight. Have you made plans?'

'Yes, but I would have included a late lunch in case you hadn't.' I examined her carefully, her flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. 'Are you tired?'

She gave me a mock scowl. 'I'm used to travelling, Heero. And first class isn't so bad. Tell me what you've planned?'

As I pushed her heavy bags along, she put her disguise back on. In her low shoes and dark suit she looked like a typical salarywoman though her distinct pose betrayed her status as someone of higher rank. 'We'll see a little bit of Tokyo, have dinner, spend the night at a hotel and tomorrow we'll leave for…'

'Home?' she offered.

 _Now it will be_. I thought, searching for her eyes behind the dark lenses. 'Hn.' I nodded. 'We'll stop by the hotel first to drop your luggage… You can rest for an hour or two if you want to.'

'I told you I'm fine.' She admonished me good-humouredly and adjusted her purse on her shoulder so she could wrap her free hand around my arm.

I took her to a few museums, then to the zoo and the park. For once we seemed to be living in the moment and not worrying about the past or the future unless it was someone else's. Relena was passionate about history and I believe our guides were happy to see us go once she was done with her questions. I thought for a second they might recognise her, but she had changed into more casual clothes and that, coupled with her girlish enthusiasm, made for a better disguise than the sunglasses. With her hair still in a neat bun, she looked like a young ballerina taking time off between rehearsals and her happiness was like a salve to my soul.

The streets were still decorated with Christmas trees and bells and sparkling bulbs and lights and because night fell so early in winter we were soon enveloped in a colourful twilight. We strolled hand-in-hand stopping at shop windows to comment on one thing or another, falling naturally into roles we'd never occupied before in a kind of relationship we'd long been denied. How pointless it all was and yet I don't think I'd ever felt so at peace as I did then.

We stopped at a family restaurant for dinner. I had considered making reservations somewhere fancy and expensive, but – though I had been to Tokyo a few times before – I was not familiar with any such place and therefore I decided to take Relena to a simpler restaurant where I knew the food to be good. She did not seem to mind, in fact she looked happiest than I'd ever seen her and that made me hesitate longer to approach the unavoidable subject of Junko.

'My grandmother wants me to get married.' I told her once I'd finished my _soba_. She had talked more than I had so she had yet to finish her _ramen_. I was grateful she had something to busy herself with while I spoke.

'Is that a proposal?' the smile she gave me over her bowl was sly.

There was no other woman I would marry and I was very well aware of that, but it was still too soon to know what would be best for us and for our relationship. 'Not yet.' I paused though my answer did not seem to surprise her. 'She wants me to marry a woman of _her_ choice. The daughter of a traditional family, who will bring land and riches into the marriage and dedicate herself to looking after my grandmother until the very end.'

Relena met my eyes. She looked thoughtful though I could not, for the life of me, figure out what was going on in her head. I waited because I sensed she had something to say, yet she took her time and only spoke once her meal was finished. 'I'm trying to understand what you're actually telling me, but I'm not sure I do or even can… Are you worried I won't live up to your grandmother's expectations?'

'No, that's not what I'm worried about.' It was already a given that she _wouldn't_ live up to Junko's expectations so there was no point dwelling on it. I could see she was trying hard not to assume the worst – that I was sending her away now, despite all I'd said and done until that very moment – so I spoke my mind. 'I'm worried she'll scare you away.'

'Scare me—'

'I'm telling you now so you'll be ready to face her.' I went on as if she hadn't spoken, trying to distract her from my embarrassment, which set my face on fire and unsettled me even further. 'My aunt believes she'll come around eventually and, to be honest, so do I. She wouldn't have offered to meet you otherwise, but she might try to test you. I don't care if you fail, just don't let her frighten you.'

And, after that impassioned speech, I went completely quiet. Relena's rosy cheeks reflected my own as she stared at me from across the narrow table. It was as if she was seeing me for the first time. Though I suspected her blush was much more out of pleasure than discomfiture, as mine was.

'Heero…' she began, still searching for the right words. 'I won't. I won't let anyone or anything drive me away from you. I promise. With all due respect, as long as _you_ want me, her opinion – and anyone else's, for that matter – is completely insignificant.' I nodded and cleared my throat, wishing to put an end to that disconcerting topic, but it seemed she had yet more to say. 'There's something I need to tell you too.'

And because her tone lost a bit of its cheerfulness I asked if she wanted to head somewhere else. She nodded and fidgeted with her purse while I paid the bill and retrieved our coats. It had grown bitterly cold outside, the wind biting on our flushed skin, but Relena wrapped her arm around mine and dragged me down the street before I could suggest calling a cab. We walked in silence until we no longer felt frozen, and only then did she decide to talk.

'Milliardo wants me to run for president once his term is through.'

By the tone of her voice I could tell she was excited by the idea though she clearly worried over what _I_ had to say. It wouldn't have bothered me much had I not promised Junko I would not leave her. I wanted Relena to do whatever she felt like, I wanted her to be happy, but I wanted her with me as well for she made me feel like I belonged at last.

'I've still got at least three years to decide…' she continued, unable to stand the silence. 'It's nothing certain just yet, but – if we're really going to do this – I thought you should know.'

'Hn.' I nodded, showing her I understood. 'We'll discuss it when the time comes.'

That seemed to satisfy her for she nodded and snuggled up even closer to me as we faced the freezing blast and trudged our way back to the hotel.

* * *

' _Kirei_!' Sachiko's joined hands covered her mouth as she caught us in the _genkan_ taking off our shoes. Her eyes sparkled as she took our guest in.

Relena turned to me as I stood up, completely at a loss. She wore a simple black tailleur, her hair half-tied behind her head with a claw, much as she had worn when I'd first met her, except without the braids. 'She thinks you're beautiful.' I translated, and my aunt stared at her as if she were a prized china doll.

' _Konnichiwa!'_ Relena waved with a wide smile trying out her Japanese. ' _Hajimemashite! Watashi wa_ Relena _desu. Douzo yoroshiku onegaishimasu!_ '

Sachiko hurried forward, introducing herself and launching onto a monologue about how glad she was Relena had come and how truly gorgeous she was and how happy I must be. And all that while our guest gaped helplessly at her.

'Sachiko, she doesn't really _speak_ Japanese. She's still learning.'

'I wish I had had more time to study before I got here. _Gomennasai!_ ' Relena smiled apologetically.

'Oh, no! Please, forgive me.' My aunt bowed shortly, hiding a deep blush. 'It's just been so long since we've had another woman in the house… I was reminded of my youth and let my excitement get the better of me. You gave her slippers?' she turned to me then to our guest's feet. 'There's no need! I keep the _tatami_ impeccable! Well… Come in, _Ririna_ _-chan._ Let me show you around the house.'

We first went to the bedroom which was to be Relena's. Located as far away from mine as possible per Junko's orders. I did not think she would actually do anything to stop us from being together under her roof - we _were_ adults after all – yet this was her way of showing she did not condone our actions. We left the luggage behind and moved on to see the bathroom, the kitchen and the room where the _butsudan_ stood in quiet solitude.

'This was Heero's mother?' Relena asked bending so she could see the picture from up close.

' _Hai_. My older sister, Aoi. I leave offerings for her at least once a day, say a few words, light an incense… This way we can keep her close to us. Keep her memory alive.'

I thought Relena would ask how she had died and I could see Sachiko thought so too for her shoulders tensed. It surprised us both when she didn't. She gestured towards the incense instead. 'May I?'

'Of course.' After a moment to recover from her shock my aunt nodded and kneeled beside Relena to show her what she usually did and how.

I had not really told her much about my mother. I had learned a lot about her from Sachiko and even from Junko, but I still felt my knowledge amounted to nothing. In eleven years, I had never sat and prayed or even lit an incense stick though I often glanced at the altar and met my mother's smiling gaze. From the door, I watched Relena greet Aoi and introduce herself as if she were talking to a living breathing woman. She made it seem so easy… I was suddenly ashamed I had never done so myself.

When she was done we finally moved to the sitting room where my grandmother awaited us at the _kotatsu_ , a tea cup keeping her wiry hands busy. Their eyes met as soon as the screen opened and, as I waited for Sachiko to introduce them or say something – _anything_ – the silence settled. Junko stood slowly, elegantly, unfolding her body with an ease that belied her age. And, as she approached, I stepped forward.

' _Obaa-sama,_ this is Darlian Relena. Relena, this is my grandmother, Junko Tanaka.'

' _Hajimemashite_.' Relena said and bowed low, I suspected more out of instinct than actual knowledge of Japanese decorum, though it would not have surprised me to learn she had studied Japanese etiquette before coming.

Junko said nothing. She stared at that foreign woman, a guest under her roof, for a long minute, then softly I heard her breathe: ' _Darurian_ …?' as if she was searching her mind thoroughly. And, when her eyes widened, I knew the unimaginable had happened. She had recognised her. 'The one who appeared on the _terebi_!' she turned to me while Relena went on smiling not understanding a word. I was trying to decide whether that was an accusation or a simple realisation.

'The former foreign minister _Darurian_?' Sachiko, who wasn't one to watch much television or pay any attention to politics, examined our guest closely. 'It _is_ she!'

 _What's going on?_ Relena's eyes asked me as she held her amiable pose. I held up a hand and gave her a glance, hoping she would stay calm while I tried to handle the situation. ' _Un_.' I nodded at Junko and Sachiko.

My grandmother gave me a long look as if she were seeing me for the first time, then glanced at Relena one more time and, without another word, strolled out of the room. ' _Okaa-sama!_ ' my aunt called her mother back, horrified. _So much for tradition and decorum…_ I thought as I gave up trying to understand Junko for once and for all. Sachiko had turned to Relena to whom she bowed apologetically. ' _Gomen, Ririna-chan._ Please, overlook that and have a seat. I'll bring some tea.'

It was the first time I remembered seeing Relena speechless. She smiled, waving dismissively at my aunt's apologies before allowing me to lead her to the _kotatsu._ After a moment, she took a deep breath. 'This is cosy.'

Despite her smile that said it was all well and forgiven, I was worried. 'Relena…' I began but her lips only curved further up as I frowned.

'You told me she'll come around. You and Sachiko believe that and you two know her better than anyone, so I'll believe that myself.' She took my hand then, but pulled away as she remembered herself. 'Is it okay to…?'

'Oh, it's fine.' It was Sachiko who answered as she arrived with the tea and the _onigiri_ she had prepared earlier. 'I'm glad – as I know my sister would've been – to see _Hiiro_ has someone who appreciates him. He's a good man.'

'I know he is.' Relena met my gaze and seized my hand again.

'Don't let my mother stop you from being happy as she did me. Not that I think she would have actually stopped me…' she looked thoughtful then, as she sipped her tea. 'Ultimately, what we make of our lives is our choice and none one else's.'

'So it is.' I agreed.

Morimoto arrived not long after we'd finished our snack. He was more respectful towards Relena than I'd expected him to be, given the way he acted around Junko. Even so, he had more humour in him than our entire family put together and, amidst his tales and anecdotes, he managed to distract our guest from my grandmother's rude departure and its yet unforeseen implications. At least until dinner time approached and Sachiko started looking concerned.

'Let me talk to her.' I offered.

My aunt seemed unsure, but her husband supported my decision. ' _Hiiro_ can handle the old woman. They've things to discuss anyway. Why don't you run our guest a hot bath and then we can get started on dinner?'

'Oh, please, allow me to help you.' Relena immediately protested not wishing, as she put herself, to be a burden on anyone. And while they were distracted deciding who would do what, I made my way to Junko's bedroom.

The faint smell of tobacco had already spread in the corridor and it thickened as I approached her door. She must have been smoking for a while, I mused, probably trying to wrap her mind around the fact that I was dating an important woman after all. Surely much more so than she could have ever imagined.

I knocked lightly, announcing myself, then – at her word – I walked in. Junko must have also been pacing for she stood practically in the middle of the room. As I entered, she spun on her _tabi_ clad feet to stare enigmatically at me. Her right hand went up to her mouth to retrieve the cigarette that hung from her lips, yet she said nothing.

'May I?' I asked after a minute or so, gesturing towards the cushion in front of her table. She waved me on, dropping ashes on the _tatami_ as she did so, but still not a word came from her lips.

I sat sideways on the cushion so I could watch her, return her blank stare, and after a long time she finally spoke. 'You've more sense than your mother, I'll give you that. And better taste.' Junko moved to sit across from me and put out her cigarette in the ashtray. This was only an introduction. 'She's an honourable woman…from a decent family… However, she's still a foreigner.'

 _And just when things were starting to look up…_ I thought, holding back a frustrated sigh. My grandmother had known from the start Relena was a foreigner. 'There's nothing any of us can do about that.' I reminded her matter-of-factly.

'Indeed not.' She crossed her arms, her thin white wrists disappearing inside the sleeves of her _yukata_ , and her eyes left mine for the first time since I'd stepped into her bedroom. It was also the first time I felt, for whatever reason, that she was on my side. I could practically see the gears turning in her head as she sought ways to bend her own convictions. 'She can apply for citizenship once you've married.'

It was only years and years of training that prevented me from displaying my shock. Junko sounded thoughtful, but in a dismissive way, as if she were picking a new set of clothes or something equally irrelevant. 'Yes, I suppose.'

'And your children will carry two strong surnames. _Hers_ and _ours_.'

'Yes, I suppose.' I repeated myself like a broken record, though I feared my brain was what might have broken. Who was that purposeful woman with eyes so like my own? Who was that woman making plans for _my_ future in my stead? Now, that _did_ sound like Junko. I felt somewhat relieved.

'You _must_ have children for Sachiko can no longer have any. And _soon_. Before I'm dead.'

Whatever joy or relief I'd thought I'd felt had vanished as I tried not to let her overwhelm me with her plans. 'Does that mean we have your blessing?' I asked, both because I needed to be certain and because I thought that might put an end to our awkward conversation.

'You really won't agree to any of the brides I chose?' she asked one last time, even though she knew the answer. 'Then I guess she'll have to do.'

I stood and bowed low because she _was_ making a huge concession for _my_ sake, even though I felt just as burdened by her expectations as before. I wondered what Relena would say to all that and if I'd be able to make Junko see things my way yet again.

* * *

'You worry too much.' Relena told me later that night. I had snuck into her bedroom and apprised her of the chat I'd had with my grandmother. She stood in front of the full-body mirror, wearing the _yukata_ Sachiko had given her and trying to pin up her hair with a pair of chopsticks. Strands kept sliding off her grasp and falling around her face, but I was too entranced by the picture she made to remark on the futility of her attempts.

'I don't even know if I _want_ children.' Then it dawned on me, amidst my frustration, that _she_ might. Trapped in the mirror, her face betrayed nothing. 'Do you?'

Relena finally gave up and turned around to meet my eyes. 'To be honest, I have never given it a thought. I've been too caught up in my job and being with you was the only thing I've ever really wanted. I may be taking some time off – a long time – but I'm still very invested in my career… So it may not be wise to have a child. At least not now, not yet.' Throughout that speech she had pulled out her _futon,_ laid the sheet and duvet on it, and now she sat looking at me, waiting for my response.

I was her priority, but her career wasn't far behind and between the two a child might go neglected. Thus I read her words. And I felt we needed more time to ourselves, _just_ to ourselves. We'd wasted too much already.

'I have always admired your commitment.' I reassured her because I sensed she felt bad, as if – being a woman – she was not allowed to put herself above her prospective children. 'And, if you marry me, I'll come with you to Mars in four years.'

For a moment, she simply stared at me clearly searching for words, then she smiled as she had done at the restaurant the night before. With a touch of slyness. 'Is that a proposal?'

I nodded seriously. 'It is now.'

'I agreed to it a year ago.' She blinked back joyful tears.

It was a yes.

I let out a breath I did not realise I'd been holding and scooted closer at her invitation. She gave me a tender kiss, full of hope and promise, and we sat together in blissful silence, her head on my shoulder, our hands intertwined. I thought about the ceremony itself… Junko would want something traditional and I didn't think Relena would mind, but I wondered about her family.

'What will your mother say?' I asked warily.

Her cheeks slid against my shoulder as she grinned. 'She feared you might never ask for my hand.' She chuckled at the memory or maybe at the fact that I'd surprise Mrs. Darlian after all. 'She'll be happy.'

'We can hold a less… _Oriental_ ceremony for her sake, if you want to.'

'No.' Relena shook her head, her hair tickling my neck. 'She'll come. And it will be perfect.'

'Hn.'

'What is it?' she heard something in my voice and pulled away slightly in order to look into my eyes. I had not realised it, but my thoughts had already wandered back to my grandmother and the unreasonable demands she had placed on our future marriage. Relena read my mind and, surprisingly, looked amused. 'You _do_ worry too much.'

'Junko won't be pleased to learn we don't mean to continue our bloodlines… She's under the impression our children will not only join our families' names, but bring them greatness.'

'That's easy to solve.' She answered, as if it were so simple she did not need to spare it a moment's thought. 'Change your name first and then, when we get married, we'll adopt each other's names. My fame alone will be enough to write the Tanakas' name in recent history.'

I admit I had my doubts, but – as it turned out – she was right.

* * *

Relena made it a mission of learning her Japanese as swiftly as possible, she turned every moment, every opportunity into a lesson. She shadowed Sachiko in the kitchen, watching and cooking the most uneven _onigiri_ I'd ever seen. They tasted incredible though and, even though Junko scoffed at them, Relena was pleased with her own progress.

Morimoto took her to the shop, gave her a complete tour and filled her in on his finances. He laughed when he told her how I'd tried to organise his papers, insert numbers into tables, that sort of thing, but had ended up giving up on him entirely and she had offered to help him in my stead.

'He's hopeless.' I made sure to inform her. 'He messes things a lot faster than you can order them.'

'I guess you'll have to help _me_ then.' Was all she said and smiled her witty smile.

When spring arrived and the customers returned, Relena quickly became the talk of the town. She only joined us at the shop two or three times a week, but her Japanese was good enough by then to charm the old men that hired us. They often visited just to see her and teach her a new word. Even the most taciturn appeared drawn to her exuberant enthusiasm, and once I had to scare one of them away for trying to teach her lewd language without her knowing.

We did not realise people knew who she was until we went to the spring festival and found ourselves constantly approached by women – young and old – wishing to take a picture with her, telling her how beautiful she was in person and inviting us to dinner. Junko was reverently included in every single invitation, which seemed to please her immensely, and treated as much as a celebrity as Relena was.

The former foreign minister of the ESUN was a phenomenon in that tiny country town, and a local news channel soon came to interview her. They were impressed by her Japanese and delighted that she would be staying even though she refused to tell them her real reasons. Eventually, people would know, but for now she was simply visiting her friends, the Tanakas, whilst enjoying some much needed vacations. Still our family's long history of honour and tradition was recalled by the media with admiration and Junko was beyond herself with pride.

I had feared, at first, Relena would grow tired of being surrounded by nothing but fields and forests, of listening to nothing but the running river and the passing wind, but I should have known she could fit in anywhere, even being a foreigner amidst a tight suspicious little community.

'This is the world you fought so hard to save.' She told me one summer night as we sat at the _engawa_ watching the fireflies flashing in the darkness. 'Do you see how beautiful and precious it is?'

I glanced at her profile, at the serenity that permeated her whole being, and thought of all the things – and people – I'd saved. 'Yes, I do.'

* * *

Sachiko and I had held on to our belief that Junko would have a change of heart, and we had watched her adapt to the new times we were living and the untraditional paths we'd taken. She had given me permission to marry Relena, though it was only months later that she would really release me to do as I wished.

The weather had begun to grow cold again and we were sitting at the _kotatsu_ , having some tea after a plentiful dinner while Sachiko dressed Relena up in a _furisode_ and fixed her hair. They were in the altar room, in front of the full-body mirror they had dragged there in an attempt to include Aoi in their shenanigans, but the _shoji_ were open so we could watch them fumble with heavy _obi_ and rebellious blonde hair.

'So you'll be leaving for Mars in three years.' Junko's sudden statement caught me completely off guard. I replayed it in my mind numerous times, trying to discover if it wasn't, in fact, a question. Was I being tested? How did she even know? As I searched for an answer, she seemed to read my thoughts. 'I spoke to your bride in private today, for the first time.'

I tried to picture such a conversation – or had it been more of an interrogation? – but my mind drew a big blank. 'I know I promised you I wouldn't lea—.'

'She'll be your wife.' My grandmother dismissed my concerns with a wave. 'Your duty to her should come first this time. So, if it eases your conscience, I release you of your promise. And you should not worry about me. Sachiko and that _baka_ , Morimoto, will stay here even if I send them away.'

She was watching her daughter battle with the strands of hair that insisted on escaping from Relena's high bun. Whatever Sachiko said made them both laugh. 'What will _you_ do?' Junko turned to me then, serious. 'You will leave your job here to accompany her to Mars… What will you do there? Will you be happy standing in her shadow?'

They say behind every great man there's a great woman. My grandmother had been one of those women, perhaps even greater than her husband. Had she been unhappy? Had she craved more? Or had the recognition and appreciation of her small family been enough for her?

I did not seek the same renown Junko did or have the same philanthropic ambitions Relena did. We all had different goals. Perhaps, as a man, I should have been more ambitious, but I felt I'd done so much already and thought my goal now was to support the woman who gave my life meaning.

I watched Sachiko place a colourful comb and a small collection of hairpins, trailing lines of flowers, on neatly tied golden tresses and saw Relena smile at herself in the mirror. Her eyes sparkled with delight and her smooth skin took on a light flush as she turned to meet my gaze. My lips effortlessly curved upwards. It had become so natural for me to respond to her with a smile and yet the warmth that spread through me every time would never cease to be wondrous.

This wasn't just a goal. It wasn't just another mission. It was what I genuinely _wanted_ to do.

' _Hai_.' I told Junko wholeheartedly and knew for certain I could not be happier.

* * *

I started writing this memoir the night before our wedding.

Because Junko had wanted something small and traditional, Relena and I had decided not to invite the friends we'd made during the war, but had settled on inviting only those we had kept close to afterwards. So I had invited Wischard and his wife while she had called for Pagan and her mother. For the first time in a long time the Tanakas' quiet empty house was full and lively.

My grandmother suffered bravely through the invasion, trying not to appear too dislocated. I feared at times she'd lose her patience, cancel the entire thing and send everyone home, but she prided herself on being a highly tolerant and resilient trouper. Sachiko fretted over the food and the tidiness of the old house, but was otherwise animated and that was partly thanks to her husband. Morimoto barely seemed to notice the intrusion at all, taking everything in stride.

'I had a big family once.' He confessed to me one morning. 'This doesn't even compare.'

I did not dare ask him what had become of them.

Our guests were all extremely polite.

Mrs. Darlian was quite captivated by the Japanese countryside and – though she swore they would not be staying longer than a couple of weeks – speculated on buying herself a house near her daughter's new residence. I wasn't particularly bothered by the prospect of living near my future mother-in-law, though I admit I couldn't picture exactly what that would entail. Pagan was ever dutifully willing to comply with her every wish and would offer us no help. Not even to Relena, who seemed to crave some distance from her mother.

'Even if she does buy a house, which I doubt she will, she'll soon miss the excitement and conveniences of the big European cities.' She told me though, in truth, it was herself she was trying to reassure. I gave her an agreeing nod, a farewell kiss and left for work before she could ask me what I _really_ thought.

Wischard and his wife arrived only a couple of days before the ceremony and, because we had no more rooms and Junko refused to let Relena share mine, my friend stayed with me for the couple following nights while his wife bunked with the bride. They were very understanding about the whole situation if not extremely amused. The two women seemed to hit it off right away, which put us men at ease for some reason.

'When they are unhappy, it's _our_ life that turns into hell.' Wischard had joked. Morimoto, however, took the comment very seriously and gave a vehement nod.

The women had all gone out that night and somehow managed to take Junko with them. So we sat together for hours, drinking _sake_ and playing cards. They seemed concerned that I might be nervous about the wedding, but I knew we'd be happy, Relena and I.

'Ever wonder how you got here?' one of them asked me at some point. I cannot recall which, yet that simple question evoked so many memories I found myself lying awake for hours afterwards, lost in them.

'You alright?' Wischard asked as he returned from a brief visit to the bathroom. It was so dark in the room I wondered how he had managed to tell I was awake… Then I thought better of it. Instincts and senses sharpened by war never go completely dull, I suppose.

'Just… Thinking of all that's happened.'

'Good.' His reaction puzzled me so he chuckled. 'I thought you were worried about tomorrow. Or _today_ rather. That Relena might change her mind.'

'You think she might?' I had to ask, despite my confidence in Relena, for _something_ must have given him that impression, surely.

'Oh, no! I've never seen a more determined woman, to be honest with you. That was just a fear _I_ had, the night before _my_ wedding. We were so young…' he trailed off, lost in his own recollections, then seemed to remember something important for he sat up abruptly and fumbled for his carry-on in the darkness. I listened as he pulled open the zipper then dug through the few sets of clothes he'd packed for the trip. 'I brought this for you.' He said and I stood for a moment to turn on the light. We both blinked painfully at the leather bound notebook and pen he held in his hand. 'As part of your wedding gift.'

'Put pen to paper, was it?' I asked, recalling his words. 'Last time I did that, it did not help matters much.'

'I doubt that. It may not have provided an instant solution, but it certainly helped you straighten your thoughts.'

I wondered if I had kept those ridiculous lists I'd made when Junko first told me about the prospective brides and the arranged marriage, but I was quite sure I'd got rid of them as soon as… My thoughts were in order. 'Maybe.' I conceded and reached out a hand to accept his offer.

Among all the memories, which had come to me as I lied there staring at the ceiling, was my impulsive and confused flight to L1 and, suddenly, as I stared at the blank page, it was as if I could hear the old man's words again.

 _Are you keeping a log? You should keep a written record of your travels. So you may relieve it all when you're my age. So you can tell your children and grandchildren all the amazing things you've done and the unimaginable things you've seen._

'Thank you.'

I took my gift with me to the _engawa_ outside and, under the soft light of the sconces Sachiko and I had installed a few years after my unexpected reappearance, I began to write. At first, I wrote to myself, then to Relena. I knew we'd probably never have children or grandchildren, but I needed those words out of my head, out of my system. And, even if my future wife did not wish to read them, I knew one day _someone_ would.

* * *

The years that followed our wedding were the best of our lives so far. The universe was at peace. The growing Mars Federation thrived under Milliardo's government so, though Relena kept a close eye on everything that went on there, she did not have to worry. People visited us from time to time regarding her approaching campaign, possible allies, managers and the like, yet none of it managed to disturb our nearly permanent happiness.

Morimoto's repair shop also prospered, benefiting from Relena's organisational and promotional skills, and – as the time drew near for us to leave Earth – I had to suggest my boss hire someone to replace me. He was getting on in years and the workload wasn't small enough for a single man to handle anymore.

'It'll be hard to replace you, if not outright impossible.' He told me one day with all his honesty. 'No other man your age has the same gigantic amount of experience.'

It was true I'd started early, but I could think of at least four other men who also had. Who knew? Perhaps one of them might be looking for a change of lifestyle? 'I'll see if I can help you with that.'

'And I fear I might not be able to make it without your wife here anymore either…' he also whined to which Relena promised she would help him find a secretary herself. In the end, however, it was his _wife_ who came to the rescue.

Sachiko did not speak her mind often nor did she betray her feelings, but when we began packing our things she did voice her complaints about us leaving. She had gotten used to the company _and_ to cooking for five instead of two or three or four. There would also be one less room requiring constant tidying as well as fewer clothes to wash and hang and iron.

'I'll have more free time than I know what to do with… It's been a long time since it was just _Hahaue_ and me during the days.' was the explanation she gave us when she began accompanying Relena to the shop to learn what she would be doing there and how.

'I think she worries Morimoto might get interested in his new secretary.' Was what my wife told me instead.

Regardless of her reasons, Sachiko's presence did make Morimoto feel more at ease, more content. It was a feeling I hadn't been able to understand completely until Relena had moved in with us. To have someone who knew, understood and accepted you nearby at all times... Someone you were sure you could always count on no matter what. It was extremely reassuring and encouraging. It was what 'home' truly felt like.

Junko was probably the one most bothered by our imminent departure though she did not say a word about it. She had grown fond of the quiet conversations she had with Relena whenever my wife spent the afternoon at home. I never really knew what they talked about, nor did I ask, but once I saw them sitting together at the _kotatsu_ , holding hands, their tea cups between them. I wondered if Relena gave my grandmother the same warm peaceful feeling she gave me, seeing as we were so very similar… I'm almost sure she did.

We left with promises to visit as often as we could, but _at least_ once a year. After a while Junko had stopped pestering me about the grandchildren she wanted, but as we said our goodbyes she made sure to remind me she was still waiting. Relena and I had discussed the possibility of adopting a child once she decided to put her career aside, but – as I wasn't sure my grandmother would still be alive by then – I refrained from mentioning it.

Now, as I sit here writing these final pages, our shuttle approaches the Red Planet where my wife will finally begin her most awaited presidential campaign and where we'll both start our new lives.

It is the first time I've been to space since that impulsive visit to L1, during which I met Wischard. I could have never imagined back then, feeling as lost and out of place as I felt, that things would turn out the way they did.

Life is full of possibilities and, though I hadn't been able to see them back then, underneath the dark veil that had covered my heart, now I have someone to light the way. And, wherever _she_ leads, I will follow.

Because with her I am home.

* * *

GLOSSARY (Because this glossary turned out so long, I tried to include only words which had not yet been used. If you feel the need, go back to previous glossaries for the missing ones.)

 _Okaeri_ \- short form of 'Okaerinasai' which means something akin to 'Welcome home'

 _Baa-chan_ \- the cutest possible way to call one's grandmother, something like 'granny', very informal and, from Junko's POV, a disrespect

' _Arigatou'_ \- 'Thank you'

' _Dou itashimashite'_ \- 'you're welcome' or 'don't mention it'

' _Ganbate kudasai'_ \- 'Stay strong' or 'do your best' or 'work hard'

 _Obaa-sama_ \- 'grandmother', respectful

' _Omedetou'_ \- 'Congratulations'

 _Baka_ \- idiot or fool

- _chan_ \- used for girls, cute, friendly, informal

 _Bento_ \- packed meal

' _Douzo'_ \- cordial form of 'please'

' _Ojamashimasu'_ \- used when entering someone's home (usually), 'excuse me for disturbing'

 _Sakura_ \- cherry tree

' _Tadaima'_ \- This doesn't have a literal translation but it could be read as 'I'm home' or 'I've arrived'

' _Okaerinasai'_ \- means something akin to 'Welcome home'

 _Soba_ \- Japanese noodles

 _Ramen_ \- also Lamen, noodle soup

 _Kirei_ \- 'Pretty', we'd say 'how pretty!'

 _Genkan_ \- that area in Japanese houses, as soon as you cross the front door, where you remove your shoes

' _Konninchiwa'_ \- greeting used during the day

' _Hajimemashite_! _Watashi wa_ Relena _desu. Douzo yoroshiku onegaishimasu.' -_ 'Nice to meet you! I am Relena. Please take care of me.'

 _Ririna_ \- Japanese pronounciation of Relena

 _Darurian_ \- Japanese pronounciation of Darlian

 _Terebi_ \- TV

 _Okaa-sama_ \- 'mother', respectful though not as formal as Hahaue

' _Gomen'_ \- short form of 'Gomenasai' = 'I'm sorry'

 _Tabi_ \- Japanese socks with split toes

 _Yukata_ \- a simpler and more informal type of kimono worn for festivals, at home and in inns/hotels as a bathrobe

 _Furisode_ \- a formal kimono with trailing sleeves

 _Obi_ \- a kimono sash

 _Sake_ \- I know, in English, we use this for the Japanese beverage made from fermented rice, but it's actually a generic word for 'alcohol'

* * *

TRIVIA

*In Japanese culture, cherry blossoms represent the beauty and frailty of life and that's what Junko's reflecting on though the meaning is lost on Heero.

*Near the Ueno Station in Tokyo there's a reunion of museums as well as the Ueno Zoo and Park, and not even 3km south of there is located a Gundam Café. I didn't know that when I chose the location for Heero and Relena's quick tour, so I thought it was a nice coincidence. XD

* * *

 **A.N.:** I know this will probably come as a surprise, but this is the end of _Kaeru_. I had always meant for it to be a short story (at least in number of chapters) and still it turned out to be one chapter longer than planned. This story has been such an incredible journey... Thanks to all of you who reviewed, favourited and followed this piece. If you haven't reviewed yet, I hope you'll find the time to do so now that it's finished and let me know your thoughts. :) Thanks for reading!


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